Crossing Over
by Feyriifie
Summary: Harry goes through his magical inheritance, and ends up with something no one expected; the X-gene. He's off to america to explore his new powers; chaos and overall mayhem ensues. Warning; SLASH
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

10 minutes

"_A magical inheritance takes place on a witch/wizard's 17th__birthday when they become legal adults in the wizarding world_

7 minutes

_It is a powerful thing, revealing latent powers, pureblood heirs, and previously dormant magical creature genes_

5 minutes

_The magical inheritance can also reveal a recently discovered gene, also carried- though not commonly accepted or recognized- by muggles_

3 minutes

_This gene is very similar to latent creature blood, revealing many characteristics previously unseen_

1 minute

_With it comes unusual powers, specific to the carrier. Powers such as Healing and High- Speed regeneration_

30 seconds

_Pyrokinesis_

25 seconds

_and Teleportation_

20 seconds

_What is this mysterious gene, you might ask._

10 seconds

_Well, my dear readers, it is called…_

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

_The X-gene._


	2. Chapter 1

**WARNING:**This **is **slash, mostly Harry**x**Logan, but including others. Don't like, don't read!

**A.N. Hello my lovelies here's the first chappie, fresh off the press. Just t' warn ya, my schedule's irregular so the chaps will be up sporadically. Enjoy pets! **

**DISCLAIMER; I don't own Harry Potter or X-men, I only wish I did.**

**Chapter 1**

_June 31, 1998_

All is quiet at No. 4, Privet Drive. The whitewashed walls are caressed in the beginning glow of sunrise, and nothing stirs behind the locked door and shuttered windows. Within the master bedroom, a large whale of a man –complete with unbecoming puce tinted face- snores noisily, enchanted with dreams of fortune. Beside him, a woman (who bears a remarkable resemblance to a horse) clutches her sheets tight, lips pursed as –even in her sleep- she frets over appearances and _normality_.

Following the standard of animal-like appearances, a rather pig-like boy lays sprawled across his bed, drool dribbling across his rumpled pillow. Round, pink flushed face relaxed in sleep, he abruptly snorts and grumbles, dreaming of cake and crisps, creampuffs and croissants drizzled in honey. Suddenly, the dream shifts, changing to the image of a small boy in nondescript and oversized clothing. Matted black hair clings to his pale forehead and luminous emerald eyes shimmer with tears.

Across the suburban home, that very boy lays -crumpled into a ball- on the hardwood floor of his dingy room. Face twisted with pain, he twitches in his restless sleep, whimpering softly. One arm is thrown across the floor, fingers just brushing the rough edge of an unfolded piece of yellowing parchment. Near the end of the letter, written in angular lines of spidery ink are four simple words;

HAPPY 17th BIRTHDAY HARRY!

* * *

Sunlight dances merrily through tattered curtains, lighting up the dull room. The golden beams pierce through the room's sole inhabitant's eyes, rousing him from sleep. Blearily, a hand reaches up to rub his eyes gently, before a jaw-popping yawn racks through his body. Smooth, golden skin glows softly in the light of dawn, and brilliant green eyes are glazed with the last vestiges of sleep. Stretching stiffly, Harry Potter –the-boy-who-lived-to-be-hyphenated, twice savior of the wizarding world, defeater of evil megalomaniacs everywhere- was officially 17 years old.

Twisting and stretching, Harry worked to ease the cramps and kinks in his muscles. Dazedly, he wondered _why _he was so sore, before realizing he was sitting on the scratched hardwood floors of his small room. "Why did I fall asleep down here?" He murmured, rich tenor voice hoarse with sleep. Leaning back against the wall, his hand brushed cool parchment: the letter.

For a minute, a small smile graced Harry's face as he gingerly reached over -wincing at the pain in his muscles- to grab the letter. The questionable experience of slumbering on the uncomfortable floor was put out of his mind as he looked at the bottom of the letter, those four simple words blaring out at him. He was 17, a legal adult in the wizarding world. His smile grew as the implications of that fact hit him; he could use magic –any magic- outside of Hogwarts with **no consequences**. He could get his apparition license. But most importantly, Harry was now emancipated, with all the rights of a fully trained wizard. He didn't need a guardian anymore, and no one could tell him where to go or what to do. In plainer words; Harry was free.

At the revelation, the grin that had been slowly stretching across Harry's face grew to epic proportions as he leapt to his feet, letting out a reckless whoop of joy. He was finally free. No more being ordered around, no more being forced to put up with those worthless excuses for humans he had the displeasure of calling relatives. And most of all, no more following Dumbledore around like a blind sheep!

At this thought, the smile fell from Harry's face, replaced with a feral snarl, lips pulled back over white teeth. "Dumbles has a lot to answer for" He spat through clenched teeth. With the ease of long practice he ran through the length- and still growing- list of how many ways the Headmaster and so-called "Leader of the light" had screwed him over.

First and foremost; forcing him to stay with the Dursleys _after Voldemort had already been defeated!_ After all, had succeeded in destroying him sixth year during a death-eater raid on Hogwarts. (**1)**According to the "all powerful Dumbledore", the only reason he had been staying with the Dursleys in the first place was because of blood wards, created by his mother when she sacrificed her life to save Harry's on that fateful night in Godric's Hollow and required him to live with blood relations to be of any use. Now that Voldemort was gone, there was no reason for him to return to the godforsaken house in Surrey, but there he was.

Second, he wasn't even supposed to go his relative in the first place! When his parent's will had been miraculously "discovered" (*cough*Dumbledore*cough*) it had clearly stated that "by no means or ways is Harry to ever step foot anywhere near Petunia and/or any family she might have". Many people knew that Petunia Evans (now Dursley) hated anything to do with magic. So of course it makes sense to send a highly powerful magical child there, especially an acutely unwelcome reminder of 'Lovely Lily', the alleged perfect sister.

Third, The way was he was foisted off on the Dursleys in the first place! (as you can probably tell by now, most of these complaints are either his relatives or something closely related to them) A year old baby, who by that point could likely crawl around- left on a doorstep, free to wander off in all directions. A vague letter was all that was left, the only explanation to his Aunt that she had just lost her sister and was to be taking care of Lily's child completely involuntarily.

Those were only the first of many grievances the Headmaster was responsible for, and there were many, **many **more he was indirectly involved in. Yes, the meddling old coot had a lot to answer for.

Harry was shaken from his musings regarding said coot by the delightful sound of his uncle bellowing for him to "get moving you worthless _freak_!" At this dulcet reminder of the unfortunate existence of his so-called relatives, a rather maniacal grin spread across Harry's face. Now that he was a legal adult in the eyes of the wizarding world and could no longer be forced to live with the Dursleys, he didn't have to worry about possible repercussions resulting from his actions during the next few hours. It was time to remind his blood relations just how dangerous this "worthless freak" could be.

Rising fluidly to his feet, Harry absentmindedly searched for his wand, mind racing with ideas on how to repay Petunia and her red-faced whale of a husband for their 'kindness' in taking care of him over the years. Long, slender fingers curled around smooth holly, gently stroking the familiar wood. Grasping it securely, Harry swung his wand down and across his body in a sharp motion. His grin widened as the ratty and oversized clothes hanging off his lithe frame melted smoothly into fitter black slacks and a silk shirt in a vibrant jewel tone that made his emerald eyes glow ethereally beneath mussed black bangs.

Following that mild act of Transfiguration, Harry flicked his wand in a quick circle, conjuring a black cord to tie back his unruly shoulder length hair. He'd let the raven locks grow out over the summer, the already messy hair inherited from his father becoming impossibly more tangled with the added length.

Sweeping his wavy mane into a low ponytail, Harry started out the door towards the landing above the stairs only to halt mid step, grimacing at the unpleasant sight –and smell– of his muddy trainers. A quick wave of his wand temporarily transfigured the ungainly footwear into a gleaming pair of black dragonhide boots. Reassured in his newfound appearance, Harry slid almost silently out the door and down the creaking steps. Moving with fluid grace, he halted just outside the white washed kitchen door, listening to the voices murmuring behind the thin wood.

First came the grunting, whining voice of his pig cousin who was –as usual– avidly complaining. Pressing his ear to the rough wood of the door, Harry was able to discern what Dudley was moaning and groaning about. Something along the lines of; "Mummy, what's taking the freak so long? I'm hungry, after all I need my food; I'm a growing boy you know."

At that, Harry was unable to suppress a snort of derision. "Growing boy my arse." He mumbled under his breath. "More like a growing elephant." After all this time, despite frequent and increasingly desperate pleas from various doctors and counselors, the Dursleys still failed/refused to believe their precious Duddykins had anything even remotely wrong with him. _Of course_ he wasn't overweight, their Dudders was a perfectly healthy and strapping young man. _Of course_ he wasn't a bully, he was a model citizen. Even then, listening through the hard wood of the door, Harry could hear the nasal tones of Petunia attempting to mollify her "Darling Duddy."

She made rather duck like noises as she crooned that 'the freak' would be down soon to make her precious his breakfast. "At least he'd better." His Aunt grumbled.

At that, the rather crazed grin Harry had been sporting shifted into a slightly malicious smirk as he momentarily indulged himself with thoughts of what he could, no, _would_ do if Petunia moved to carry through with her threat. Shaking off thoughts of turning his cousin into a chew toy and offering him to Snuffles, he gingerly pushed the door to the kitchen open.

"Good morning Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon!" Harry chirped blithely, practically skipping into the bright room with a maniacal grin on his face. The smile adjusted into a smirk as he shifted to face his balloon of a cousin who was sitting slumped at the table, looking fairly put out and becoming increasingly annoyed. "Morning Dudley! Aren't we bright-eyed and bushy-tailed! Still bloated as ever I see. You might want to get that looked at, it _can't_ be good for your health." Harry cackled mentally at the looks of shock on his relatives faces, which were gradually turning a blotchy red as surprise turned into anger.

"No no, no need to get up." He started before anyone to reprimand him. "I just came down to see how everyone was doing! Now that I know you're all up, I'll just be heading back upstairs, 'kay?" Harry threw a wink over his shoulder as he trotted back to the door way, chuckling with vindictive glee as he listened to his Aunt and Uncle splutter. He'd almost made it to the door before he heard his Uncle's first coherent word of the morning.

"Boy!" Vernon exploded, voice thundering through the kitchen. "Just what do you think you're doing?" Grin firmly in place, Harry spun on his heel, looking innocently over at his raging uncle. Vernon's normally puce-tinted face had turned a bright, fiery red and his large walrus mustache was bristling with his fury.

All in all, Harry's uncle looked the perfect example of a volcano ready to blow. All it would take was one more prod…

"Yes dearest Uncle?" And Harry was happy to provide. He watched, fraught with anticipation, as his uncle's face flushed completely crimson, before cycling through the rest of the rainbow, finally settling on an extremely unbecoming shade of ochre.

And Mount Vernon exploded. His face, previously ochre, flushed a bright, angry scarlet.

"Boy!" He roared. Shooting out of his chair, or at least as much as he could with his considerable girth, and shaking his fist, Harry's uncle glowered towards him threateningly. Petunia and Dudley snapped out of the shocked stupor they had fallen into from Harry's comments and started grinning maliciously, eagerly awaiting the usual screaming and eventual manhandling of their unfortunate relative. Looking to Harry and expecting to see the standard look of fear and anxiety his face usually sported when faced with his irate uncle, both Harry's aunt and cousin were shocked to see he wore a confident and cocky smirk. He looked almost… _happy_

* * *

_A scintillating figure dances beneath a bright silver moon. Luminous emerald eyes gleam beneath silky ebony bangs, black locks obscuring the radiant gems. A flash of white, even teeth in the pale heart shaped face as it splits into a brilliant smile. His heart lurches at the sight, at the inherent beauty held within the ethereal being that flits between the silhouetted trees like a forest sprite._

Logan, code-name Wolverine, sat up, a gasp wrenching its way out of his throat. Passing a rough hand over his face, he slowly laid back onto the silk sheets. "What the hell…" He rasped, mind flitting through memories of the recurring dream that had enchanted him for the past nights. He called up images of a slight boy, no, man that spun beneath a brilliant full moon, dancing through the night like a wraith.

'Who _is_ he?' Logan wondered, still entranced by the vision of otherworldly magnificence.

Once again dragging a hand down his face, he rolled reluctantly off the bed, stumbling tiredly over to the mirror mounted on the wall above his oak nightstand. Fingering his coarse stubble, he blearily looked back at the familiar face reflected within the silver glass.

Mussed brown hair with overly long sideburns, jagged stubble dotted on tanned cheeks, and dark brown eyes fading to a feral gold. His beast was awake, watching Logan's surroundings avidly from just beneath the surface. The dream had peaked its attention and now Logan got the feeling of… _waiting_. His beast was expecting something… or some_one._Now one might be confused by the term 'his beast'. You see, Logan was a feral; a mutant with an animalistic side that gave him enhanced strength, sight, smell and hearing. All the animal's instincts were thrown in as well; fight, sleep, hunt… And at that moment those instincts were awake and at tentative. Suspenseful. Expectant.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Logan leaned wearily against the cool white titles of the shower wall, shivering at the contrast to his heated skin. Throwing open the glass door and shuddering at the blast of cold air he stepped out, flexing his toes into the plush white rug outside the shower door. He stretched, lifting his arms above and behind his head, looking forward to a long day of rest without having to teach. And…

The blaring alarm pierced through the thick wood and stone walls of the bathroom, calling the X-men to Professor Xavier's office for, as Cyclops liked to put it, 'urgent business'.

Logan sighed… He had a long day ahead…

* * *

Harry's POV

Harry grinned, watching expectantly as his irate Uncle powered towards him, plump face flushed with rage. He dimly realized in the back of his mind that his aunt and cousin were watching avidly, though both were rather confused by the look of anticipation prevailing on Harry's face despite the fact that Vernon loomed menacingly over Harry's slight frame, grinning maliciously as he raised his hand…

"No." Harry's calm, cool voice rang out plainly over the sounds of Vernon Dursley's huffing. Harry's Uncle paused, momentarily shocked by the unexpected event of his nephew's defiance. Then, his face molded into what was _supposed_ to be a glare, but looked more like the expression one makes when extremely constipated. "Oh really, _freak?_ And what are you going to do about it?" He snarled, spittle flying from beneath his bristling gray moustache.

Harry simply smirked and said nothing, standing unwaveringly before his over-large Uncle, eyes glowing a bright, swirling jade. At his silence, Vernon snarled once more, cocked his arm back, and stepped forward…

Only to find himself thrown against the whitewashed wall, pinned by an unseen force.

Petunia and Dudley gasped, seeing their husband/father (respectively) splayed spread-eagle halfway up the cheery yellow walls of the kitchen. Just seconds before they had been eagerly awaiting the sight of the overweight man beating some sense into the 'little freak.' Then, in a series of movements almost too quick to see, the boy had thrown the much larger man across the well-lit kitchen, crushing him into the wall.

Observing everything in a kind of horrified fascination, the pig-like boy we all know and hate known as Dudley swiveled his head back to look at the slim form of his cousin. For the following years, Dudley Dursley still could not believe what he saw, and is still currently in the process of gathering his jaw back up off the floor.

For all of Dudley's unfortunate existence, Harry Potter had always been the lowest of the low in the young Dursley's underdeveloped mind. Potter was the worthless no-account, the freak, the scapegoat; all the derogatory names and terms held within the Dursley family's notably lacking vocabulary were forced onto the unfortunate boy.

Due to their inadequacy in caring for the boy, Harry had also constantly been impossibly skinny, always dressed in ragged clothes several sizes too large. Altogether, he looked the part of a nondescript graying lump for most, if not all, of his young life. And though never physically abused, Harry Potter could have been the poster-child for cases of neglect and/or emotional trauma and abuse.

But there, in the middle of the pristinely bright kitchen, was no skinny malnourished disgrace to humankind. Taking its place was a young man in perfect health, slim frame toned with lean muscles. Though standing perfectly still, Harry's body was held with lithe grace, sunlight playing over smooth golden skin. His dark raven locks, previously tamed, had sprung free of their black tie, swaying violently in a whipping breeze only he could feel.

And, slightly obscured by the waving tendrils, Harry's eyes –usually dull with sorrow and doubt – glowed a vibrant green. The fiery emerald depths shone with power as Harry slid silkily into a half-crouch, eyes flashing a wild gold. Face splitting in a feral smirk, Harry stalked smoothly forward…

**A.N. CLIFFIE! ;) I'm evil, I know. (cackles wildly before running off to plot more doom n' gloom) Thanks to; 917brat, mcgurrin, PureHFA, Night Kiyruu, perfect-piscies, fanbasher865, Thera-Rocklynn, and mithrilandtj for the reviews**

**(1)I know lovelies, that didn't happen in the books. The story is canon up until 5th year, which is mostly correct except Sirius is still alive in this one. Harry offed Voldie in 6th year in this, cuz I didn't want t' have t' deal with him.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Previously: _Face splitting into a feral smirk, Harry stalked smoothly forward…_

Feet sliding soundlessly across the pristine white tiles of the kitchen floor, Harry stalked towards the prone form of his overweight Uncle. Vernon Dursley, in all his balloon like glory, hung pinned against the canary yellow walls of his suburban home's kitchen. Many of you might notice that this was not a normal occurrence for the normal Mr. Dursley, who to most people's knowledge did not make a habit of being suspended halfway up walls, canary yellow or not. However, Vernon was not hanging from the wall of his own volition; rather, the blame went to his newly 17 year old nephew.

Said nephew was currently gliding smoothly towards his unfortunate Uncle, moving with the feline grace of a hunting cat. His eyes, glowing emerald with barely restrained power, bled into a feral gold, flashing spook sheen green in the dancing sunlight. Sliding to a stop in front of his spread-eagled uncle, Harry moved his head forward, bringing their faces barely inches apart. Cocking his head to the side like a curious kitten, Harry stared searchingly into his uncle's watery blue eyes.

Probing gently, Harry entered his Uncle's mind with little to no effort, so focused on his task that he failed to realize and/or question the ease of the penetration. Legilimency had never been his strong suit, even with the unusually weak mind of his maternal Uncle. Harry flitted sporadically from memory to memory, emotion to emotion, dancing through Vernon's mind like a wraith. He was searching for one memory in particular, one that had become the forefront of Harry's nightmares (not including the dreams sent from Lord Moldy Voldy) for the past years. It was by no means a happy recollection, but Harry had to know why. He _needed_ to know _why_.

The memory Harry was searching for was very specific, occurring about 5 years before. Finding it floating across the depths of his Uncle's mind, he dove in, watching the events from a spectator's view. He watched in an emotionless stupor as his extremely obese Uncle advanced menacingly on a younger, scrawny and unkempt looking Harry, backing the terrified boy into a corner. His Uncle was snarling angrily, spurred on by the look of abject terror on his 12 year old nephew's face. The older Harry flinched violently, remembering how the fear raced through his veins, locking his face into a horrified mask above his petrified frame.

He jerked once again as he witnessed the familiar sight of his large uncle raising his hand into the air, preparing to bring it down on his nephew's face in a vicious backhand slap. Harry turned away, flinging himself out of the memory of the only real physical abuse his relatives had forced upon him. As he pulled out of Vernon Dursley's mind, his lip curled in a disgusted sneer that would have impressed even Snape. Scanning over the thoughts he had pulled from Vernon's memory, Harry lost all hope that his relatives had been coerced into treating him the way they had. All of Vernon's thoughts had been filled with a sick pleasure and satisfaction at, and I quote, 'being able to beat some sense into that _freak_'.

Harry trembled violently, dark green and silvery gold power flowing off him in waves. He was revolted, perfectly formed lips pulling back off his teeth as a deep, throaty growl rumbled through his chest. Vernon, Petunia and Dudley were, unfortunately, family. Family was _supposed_ to take care of one another; even the prejudiced purebloods had the motto 'family first.' Family, above all, stuck together. They did _not_ throw a young child into a cramped, dark cupboard for the greater part of his young life, while their own hog of a son was given two overly large bedrooms. They did _not_ force a child to cook three meals a day on a burning stove half a head taller than him, while barely giving the child enough food to survive on. And most of all they _**did **__**not **_raise a single finger to hurt the child placed in their care. Chilren were meant to be _loved_ and _cared for_, not abused and neglected!

Harry's rage grew with each passing moment, eyes fading completely into pure gold. His rational mind faded, replaced by the mind of an animal. An _enraged_ animal.

* * *

Kaen was angry. Not just angry, he was livid. The extremely fat man in front of him that resembled a whale on land had threatened Harry. **No one** threatened Harry. Cubs within a pack were revered, and _loved_, especially this one as Mother's childe. And this, this, abomination had lifted a hand to Harry, had hit _his Harry! _Kaen was alight with newfound power, eyes glowing gold. He lifted an artistic, tawny hand, grinning ferally with overly long canines as gleaming ebony-black claws slid smoothly from the pads of their fingers. Mother would be pleased with how well his mage was taking to this. Sliding a single foot forward, Kaen started stalking towards the man who had dared hurt _his _Harry, and then…

'**Wha…?'** a dim, confused voice spoke in the back of their mind. Kaen started, before sinking into the connection, following the pathway back into their mind.

'_Is that you Cara__**(1)**_?' Kaen sent back, waiting nervously. He had a lot to explain to his _Cara,_ after all, his mage most likely had no idea what was happening to him, and though Kaen's awakening had occurred just that morning, Mother had given him all they needed to know, as well as imparting her wrath against those who would harm her precious Childe. He needed to talk to his mage_,_ to explain,but Kaen still had the dunderheads his _Cara_ had the displeasure of calling relatives to deal with. Idly, he waved their hand, foregoing the wand tucked into their back pocket, pinning both Petunia and Dudley to the wall next to their husband/father before receding down into their mind again.

Inside, Kaen found a vast forest, elegant and ancient trees reaching their magnificent branches into the vast sky. Brilliant jade and emerald memories formed the leaves, while misty white and silver floated through a sky painted in the passionate crimson and golden of sunset. A path wove through the gaps between the giant oaks and graceful willows, but it was not beaten down. Rather, it looked as if the brush and trees had simply spread naturally away from the trail, simply leaning slightly to either side. It all appeared completely innate, just another part of the forest.

Kaen smiled proudly, gazing rapturously around at the lush green surroundings, silvery animals from all over the muggle and magical worlds flitting between the dancing patches of sunlight and shadow. Yes, Mother would be very pleased. Her Childe, after only a few hours since their awakening, had her spirit flowing freely through the newly formed forest of their mind. Striding quickly down the weaving path, Kaen's bright golden eyes flickered across the landscape, searching for a head of tangled black hair. As he hiked farther and farther in, he was able to make out a faint jade glow deeper into the trees. Picking up his pace, Kaen was eventually able to make out a clearing, lit with the glow of the fading sun.

Sliding to a stop just inside the tree line, Kaen let his sight roam across the circular clearing, taking in the vivid green grass dotted with vibrant wildflowers, before bringing his attention to the center of the meadow, eyes softening tenderly at the sight. His mage, his _Cara,_ was lying curled like a cat at the base of a majestic redwood that looked timeless, neither young nor old. Tangled raven locks fluttered lightly in time with Harry's soft breathing, eyes closed in the first restful sleep he'd had in years.

Still smiling softly, Kaen trotted soundlessly over to Harry's prone form, kneeling down next to him. He allowed himself one more moment to just enjoy the peaceful moment, before reaching down to gently shake his _Cara_ awake.

Harry started awake, flinching violently at the feel of large hands on his shoulders. When they did nothing more than shake him slightly in an effort to rouse him from sleep, Harry slowly opened his emerald eyes, lifting a slender hand to rub the sleep away. When he felt a warm hand gently tug the fist away, he gradually –and fearfully– raised his eyes to meet bright gold.

Harry gasped in shock, skittering backwards until his back met the reassuring bark of the giant redwood. "Wh- who?" His thoughts raced madly, all focused on the stranger in front of him. He felt so, so… _familiar, _as if Harry had always known him. Dazedly, he compared the feeling to those of the dream that had been haunting him, filled with flashes of a rugged, brown-haired man with amber eyes.

But it was not the same. The look in those amber eyes was filled with adoration, caring, _love. _The feelings emanating from this man were so alike, yet so different; pride, camaraderie, protectiveness. Whoever he was, he felt so _natural,_ yet was unlike anyone he'd ever seen. He reminded Harry of illustrations he'd seen in some of the obscure books he'd used when searching for a way to defeat Moldyshorts that _didn't_ involve a huge battle with an extreme number of people and creatures dying in a fight to the death. The particular book in question had been on South American magicks, focusing specifically on the Amazon mages.

The man kneeling in front of Harry looked like one of the Amazon warrior mages; tall, slender frame toned with lean muscles. Long, muscular legs wrapped in fitted dark brown leather, defined chest halfway covered in a brightly patterned vest of green, gold and red accented cloth. The sun-bronzed skin exposed to the open air was criss-crossed with lighter scars that stood out clearly against the man's russet tan. Strong, sinewy arms led to solid hands that were calloused and scarred, still reaching out reassuringly to Harry from where they had fallen off his shoulders.

Running his eyes up a tan throat, he mapped out a strong jaw, high, angular cheekbones, and an elegant nose; all hard lines and chiseled features. Even his hair was kept at a sharp angle, black locks just brushing his jaw, long bangs tucked behind a sharply pointed ear. Twisting black stripes, like a tiger's, cut their way across the taught cheeks, and thick black lines gave him a predatory look, solid and bold in the corners of his eyes.

Those _eyes_. Dazzling gold orbs with a slit black pupil held a soft look as they gazed back into Harry's emeralds. Harry gasped as their gazes locked, and two words slipped through his numb lips;

"Kaen… brother…"

Harry stopped, utterly confused as to the meaning behind those words. He watched uncertainly as a proud smile graced the visage of the teen in front of him, eyes holding a pleased gleam that was tinged with mischief.

"Hello _Cara._" The wild teen whispered, smooth baritone voice soothing Harry, the tone as familiar to him as his own.

"What… I don't understand… who are you? I know who you are, and yet I don't…" Harry trailed off, shaking his head in confusion. He looked pleadingly up into the other's face, searching the brilliant golden eyes desperately. "Please, what's going on?" He begged.

Kaen smiled gently at the lost look in his little _Cara_'s pure jade eyes. "Shhh my mage, it's alright." He soothed, reaching out a hand hesitantly, setting it on Harry's shoulder when he voiced no discomfort. "You know me _Cara_, open your mind and you will see." He murmured encouragingly, waiting until the emerald orbs slid shut before continuing. "Our forest is all around you, green leaves and white clouds of memories, animals of muggles and magic dancing between the beautiful trees." He let his voice settle into a soft monotone. "Gentle winds ruffle the brush, an ancient melody carried on the breeze." He grinned at Harry's mutterings about 'beautiful music, so beautiful'. He continued; "Mother sings to you, and you lose yourself in her words. Listen to her voice, and the knowledge will come to you."

Harry was entranced by the flowing voice that accented the rhythmic, pulsing beats of the music. Who was singing? What had he called her, 'Mother'? It was amazing, so peaceful… And there was knowledge in the melody, all the knowledge he needed, and more.

"Kaen." He murmured, mesmerized. "Your name is Kaen." And he knew it to be true, that voice would never lie to him.

"Yes _Cara, _that's right. Kaen is my name. Now listen deeper, lose yourself completely in Mother's song. '_Who am I?' _Ask and Mother will answer." Kaen's voice was deep and hypnotic, lulling both of them into a kind of stupor.

Harry's strained voice pulled Kaen from his trance like state, and his brow furrowed at the teen's mumbled words. "I- I can't… there's something blocking me. The music is.. its blurring." He sounded distressed.

Quickly, Kaen questioned. "_Cara? _Can you hear me?" At Harry's affirmative, Kaen rushed on to say; "Can you see what's blocking you? What does it look like?"

"It… It's light, a bright yellow light with blue sparkles. It glows and hums, keeping me from hearing the song." Harry groaned, a shiver running up his spine in disgust at the unnatural feeling of the numbing light, clenching his eyes shut tight.

They sprang open again at Kaen's primal roar, the guttural, animalistic sound thundering through the small clearing. Kaen's eyes, usually warm, turned icy and cold like hard chips of topaz. He stood tall, lanky frame shaking with rage, white teeth with sharp canines bared in a feral snarl. Eventually, the growling formed into clearer words;

"That old _bastard_! How _dare _he? How dare he place a block on my mage, _my Cara, _on THE MOTHER'S _CHILDE!"_

The winds seemed to agree with Kaen, whipping through the clearing, swirling violently through the grass and tangling against Kaen and Harry's bodies. Even the trees and brush around the clearing seemed to quiver with anger, whispering words on the winds. _"Old fool… hurt __my Childe…__ will pay for what he's done…" _

When the winds had started, Harry had curled against the tree he was leaning on, trying to shield himself from their rage. Now, he realized that they were not harming him, would never harm him. The breezes wrapped lovingly around his form in a gentle embrace, soothing and comforting him, calming his fears. They whispered in his ears with a single voice, soft and feminine. "My beloved Childe… would never hurt you… do not be afraid…"

Harry smiled serenely, reassured by the calming voice. He looked up, startled, at the sound of grass crunching under foot. His face once again contorted into a mask of fear at the thunderous expression on Kaen's face as he stalked towards Harry's prone form. Kaen's expression softened, saddened that his mage would think that Kaen would ever hurt him. He crouched down on the balls of his feet next to his _Cara_, cupping a hand under the boy's delicate pointed chin and tilting it up to look into those brilliant emeralds.

"Oh, my _Cara_, I am not angry at _you_. Never at you. My rage is for that bastard of an old codger you call Headmaster." Kaen soothing tone hardened, expression murderous.

"Headmaster? You mean Dumbledore? What has the manipulative old coot done _now?_" Harry questioned, his tenor voice disdainful.

Kaen chuckled at Harry's name for the elderly Headmaster, eyes crinkling in mirth. "Ah, mage, that's perfect." He wiped a tear from the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes before narrowing them in concentration, trying to say his next words without growling.

"That 'old coot', as you so accurately put it, has placed a block on your magic to keep you from reaching your full potential. That light you saw was the web that keeps you from hearing me, from hearing Mother." He was snarling by the end, fury at Dumbledore rising by the second.

"He _WHAT?_" Harry shrieked, leaping to his feet with fist clenched, fingernails digging into his palms. He hissed suddenly as he felt a sharp pain in the sensitive skin of his fingertips and hands. He cautiously unclasped his fists and froze, gawking.

For there, sliding from his fingertips, were ten ebony claws, black and deadly. Harry lifted his hand to his face, staring blankly at the extremely lethal looking nails he was suddenly sporting instead of the normal gently rounded tips. Biting his lip in confusion, he jerked once again, licking the blood away from the bite. Running his tongue over his teeth, his shock increased as he felt the lengthened points of his canines, forming bestial fangs.

Kaen watched uneasily as his mage examined his new claws and fangs, a vacant expression on his face. As the silence continued and the seconds ticked by, Kaen grew more and more anxious, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and twining his hands nervously in his lap. What would his _Cara_ say? What if he hated Kaen, hated being what he was? Finally, Kaen broke the tense silence, voice cautious and shaky.

"_Cara?_"

Harry looked up, brow furrowed, face a mask of confusion. "K-Kaen? Wha… what's going on?" Harry's voice grew panicked. "What's h-happening to m-me?"

"Oh _Cara._" Kaen's voice was sorrowful and grave as he drew the bewildered boy into his arms, stroking the head of mussed black hair. "There is so much to tell you, so much to explain. But we have so little time. I don't even know where to start…"

Harry's voice was subdued, quiet; "just start at the beginning."

"Alright _Cara_, beginning it is." Kaen sighed and sat back on his heels, brow furrowed in concentration. How could he put it without his mage hating him, hating what Kaen's existence had made him become? Harry had enough hardship in his life, and now this? Kaen closed his eyes; mourning for his _Cara's_ suffering. But in the silence, Kaen could hear the Mother's words, soothing him, calming his fears.

"_No Kaen… my Childe will not hate you… will not hate this… has always been accepting…"_ Mother whispered on the winds. Kaen sighed in response, nodding at Her words. Yes, his mage had always been different, so accepting of people's diversity. But what about his own?

Finally, he opened worried golden eyes, raising them to meet brilliant emeralds clouded with fear and doubt.

"Alright _Cara_, you know my name, yes? The music was able to tell you that?" At Harry's nod, he continued. "Were you able to hear anything else?"

Harry shook his head numbly in response. "All I know is your name; Kaen. That was all the music could tell me before I was cut off."

"Ah, then it falls to me to explain everything to you _Cara_. First; where we are." Kaen sat cross-legged in front of Harry, leaning his head on an arm braced on his knee. "To make a long story short, we are inside your mind, or at least, the manifestation of it." Harry's face was a mask of shock; eyes wide and mouth slightly open. "Why are you so surprised mage? You know Occlumency now, yes? That Snape fellow taught it to you."

Harry snapped out of his shock and shook his head slightly, saying: "Yes, the Professor taught it to me last year, that's not why I was surprised." He paused to run a hand through unruly black hair, still lightly shaking his head from side to side in disbelief. AS he spoke again his tone was colored with shock and awe. "It's just; my mindscape didn't look like this before."

"Really?" Kaen cocked his head to the side, looking for all the world like a inquisitive kitten. "What did it look like? Were the trees different?" He was curious to know what his mage's mind had looked like before Kaen's awakening, after all, it couldn't of changed _that _much.

Harry shook his head, and his eyes took on a far away look as he remembered. "It was the Room of Requirement back at Hogwarts, configured into a sitting room. The room was vaguely circular with white marble walls, hung with tapestries of black and silver. Delicate sconces of bright gold were mounted regularly along the walls, burning softly with gentle lavender light. A fireplace paved with gold-veined stone was lit, crackling merrily. Black furniture accented with lavender and crème surrounded the fireplace, a sliver and glass table set between them. Various rugs of deep violet and gold covered the hard wood floors, and assorted wooden chests lined the lower walls. In the spaces empty of lights and tapestries, dark mahogany bookcases monopolized the available space, stretching from floor to ceiling.

Harry stopped; a light smile on his face. Slowly, the grin faded, replaced by a perplexed frown. "It looked nothing like a forest though." He gazed searchingly at Kaen, as if hoping he could read the answer in his eyes.

Kaen grinned, thinking that his _Cara_ was cute when confused. "No, _Cara, _it wouldn't." He grinned at the impatient look on Harry's face, before deciding to give him a straight answer. "Your 'mindscape' as you put it, changed last night. From the Come and Go room, to this magnificent forest." Kaen's voice was filled with awe at how much his mage had changed in just one night, It should have taken _weeks_ if not _months_ for Harry's mind to have changed completely to suit his new self, and yet it had changed _overnight_.

Harry seemed to agree with this sentiment. "What? But- But that's _impossible!_ It can take _years_ for someone's mindscape to even change small amounts!" His voice was high-pitched and incredulous.

Kaen nodded at that, just as stunned. He had expected his _Cara's_ mind to have already been something at least _similar _to a forest, perhaps with different trees, or without the clearing. Then, it would change slowly over time to the majestic grove it should be. He smiled proudly; his mage was more powerful than anyone had imagined. It took a wizard with very strong magic to adapt their mind over two or three weeks, to do it in less than a day was unheard of.

Looking back at Harry, Kaen shrugged and said, "I don't fully understand it either mage. You should have been able to change this quickly, and yet you have. Hmm… Perhaps Mother helped you along?"

"Wait!" Harry's exclamation pulled Kaen from his musings. "If this is my mind, how are _you_ here?" His voice grew suspicious. "Are you using Legilimency on me?"

"No _Cara,_ I am not using a wizard's trick on you." Kaen soothed. "In fact, your shields are still up and strong." Here he pointed at the sky where cloudy silver chains could be seen snaking across the brilliant blue in swooping, twining patterns.

Harry nodded, reassured by the familiar sight of his Occlumency barriers, but he was still apprehensive. He regarded Kaen with a calculating gleam in his emerald eyes. "Then how did you get in?" He queried, eyes narrowed.

"Wellll, technically I didn't 'get in' per say." Kaen hedged, skirting around the question.

Harry's eyes narrowed even further at Kaen's not so subtle avoidance of his question. About to open his mouth to reprimand Kaen to stop dancing about and just answer the damn question, Harry was cut off by a scolding voice carried across the clearing on the wind.

"_Kaen… do not fear… Childe is special… deserves to know…" _The whispered words seemed to chastise the wild looking teen, and Kaen hung his head like a school boy lectured by a disapproving teacher.

"Yes Mother." Kaen replied, properly reproved. Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow at the easy acceptance of the spectral reprimand. Once again, he wondered at the identity of this 'Mother' Kaen continued to mention, especially considering the almost reverent attitude he spoke of her with.

Harry gave himself a mental shake, bringing his attention back to the matter at hand. Kaen was sitting in front of him staring off into space in much the same matter Harry was before. White teeth worried his narrow bottom lip as he thought; a small wrinkle between his eyebrows. Finally, his golden eyes refocused, shifting over to Harry, and he sighed despondently.

"Alright _Cara, _as Mother said, you deserve to know. I didn't 'get into' your mind because…" Kaen paused nervously, glancing back and away from Harry, who raised an impatient eyebrow. "I was sorta already here." He studiously kept his eyes from straying towards Harry, rubbing a hand sheepishly over the back of his head.

"You… were already… here?" Harry's voice was dull and monotone, emerald eyes blank. "What's that supposed to mean."

"Heh… heh… umm, it means I was already in your mind." Kaen was shifting awkwardly, biting his lip and twining his hands in his lap.

"Already in my- my mind? Kaen, what's going on? What aren't you telling me?" Harry was just as nervous. "To be in my mind without Legilimency, don't you have to be… part of myself?" His voice was shocked and disbelieving.

"Yes, _Cara, _that's right. I am part of you, part of your mind." Kaen smiled softly, a tender look in his eyes. No matter how his mage reacted, he was glad he got the chance to be with his _Cara._ "I awoke last night in your inheritance, and I've been with you since, inside your mind. When your relatives threatened you, I came out, taking control as you lost yourself in the anger."

"I remember that!" Harry said, recalling the bestial presence that had replaced him as he faded into rage. "But whoever that was animalistic, like…" Harry stopped, putting the pieces together.

"Like a feral…" Harry finally recalled the night before his birthday, along with the obscure book on magical inheritances, including those of mutants, he had been reading. He remembered the list of characteristics mutants acquired after coming into the powers, specifically those of ferals.

Increased eyesight and hearing, better coordination, and eyes fading to gold (like that of a werewolf) when experiencing strong emotions. But most importantly; the second personality gained, another identity living within the mind with animalistic tendencies and appearance.

"Oh… **Oh…**" Harry was stunned, afraid, and excited all at one time. "I'm… I'm a mutant, aren't I?" He questioned, voice dejected.

"Yes _Cara_, you are." Kaen said, looking worriedly at his downhearted mage, who looked to be on the verge of tears. "Oh _Cara, _what's wrong?" He crooned, drawing the smaller boy into his arms comfortingly. He settled the petite teen's frame comfortably into his lap, wrapping the boy in his long corded arms. "What's the matter my mage?"

"Why- Why can't I ever be normal?" Harry sobbed, voice breaking. "Am I always going to be a freak?" Virtually soundless tears leaked down the boy's pale face, sparkling in the flickering light of the clearing. "My friends… everyone will hate me!"

"No _Cara, _you are no freak!" Kaen denied, burying his face in Harry's mussed black hair. "And anyone who tells you so does not deserve to have the honor of knowing you."

Harry dug his face into Kaen's well defined chest, slender shoulders shaking. He shook his head, sniffing dejectedly. "But- But, I'm a _mutant!_ That book said- said that it wasn't accepted even with _muggles_ who knew about it. Wizards are so prejudiced even now, what if they find out about this?"

"That's true mage, wizards are bigoted, but they're also idiots who wouldn't know of a quill from the other!" Kaen chuckled, thinking the comparison spot on.

Harry hiccupped a laugh, raising a hand to wipe away his crystal tears. "There, _Cara, _see? Everything's not so bad!" Kaen slid an artistic finger underneath Harry's pointed chin, tilting it up to gaze into Harry's emerald eyes. "Being a mutant isn't all bad! After all, you have me now, yes?" Kaen winked, smirking cheekily. "I'll take care of you my mage; after all, that's what I'm here for." He wrapped Harry tighter into his arms. "No one will ever hurt you again, not with me here. Mother and I won't allow it."

At that, Harry tugged out of Kaen's hold, looking up at the taller teen. "Who _is_ this mother you keep talking about Kaen?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow. "And where do these animals keep coming from?" He added as a silvery eagle swooped through the clearing above his head. "I've never seen other living things inside another's mind besides the things that are… part… of… them…" He stopped at that realization; were all those animals part of him as well?

"_I believe… the question is… mine to… answer…" _This time, the whispering voice was not carried on the winds that blew across the clearing to wrap Harry in their embrace. Rather, the words came from above the two figures, emanating from the lowest branch of the giant redwood tree.

Both Kaen and Harry looked up, startled to see a willowy figure cloaked in green sitting lightly on the gnarled tree branch. The ethereal, spectral face looking down at them wore a brilliant grin, eyes swirling with all the colors of the rainbow. Their jade robes, patterned with dark green leaves and bronze runes, swung lightly in the eddies of breeze, dancing through the white-blonde locks peeking from beneath the green hood.

"Hello Mother." Kaen said softly, looking up at the slender figure. "Did you come to explain things to my _Cara_?" He asked.

"_Yes Kaen… I am here for my Childe…" _She smiled softly down at Harry, a tender, motherly look on her heart-shaped face. "_Hello Harry… Hello my beloved Childe…" _Her breathy voice carried with it the enchanting music that hand so entranced Harry earlier.

Harry smiled as the familiar music and winds wrapped themselves around his slight frame. He looked up at the specter in the tree and smiled; he knew who this was. The music was all around him, as was the knowledge carried in its notes. This was Mother, _his_ Mother, everyone's mother; nature, magic, the air, the sky, and the sea. She was everything. And yet, **he** was her only beloved Childe, her only son. Nature, magic, the air, the sky, and the sea were his family, his home.

"Hello Mother." He breathed; a beaming smile on his face.

**(1) **Irish/Gaelic for friend.

**A.N. thanks to tamzingrace, afallenheart, Alia-Jevs, and especially perfect-piscies and Night Kiryuu for the reviews! I'll see if I can't make the chappies a tad longer. **

_**p.s. what do you guys think of the name Kaen? Its gaelic, meaning (as far as I could tell), both warrior and beauty. I can change it if ya don' like it, just give me suggestions!**_


	4. Chapter 3

**A.N. Alright Lovelies, here's chapter 3, hot off the presses. It explains a bit farther on Mother, Kaen, and Harry's mutant powers (ish).**

**Chapter 3**

Previously; _"Hello Mother." He breathed, a beaming smile on his face._

Harry smiled beatifically up at the ethereal form on the lowest tree branch, leaning subconsciously into the winds curled around him in a protective embrace. The smile only widened as the strange form floated smoothly down off of the branch, feet sliding soundlessly across the grass as she kneeled beside him, wrapping arms as ghostly and delicate as the breezes twining through his hair. He buried his face in her green robes as he leant into the first motherly hug he'd had since that fateful October night 16 years ago.

"_My beloved… my Childe… we are… with you now… Kaen and I… you will… never be alone again…"_ The breathy voice next to his ear comforted him, as Kaen hummed soothingly; petting a hand through Harry's mussed black hair.

Mother's voice was both weak as wind and yet strong as earth, playful as water and yet solemn as stone. It was passionate fire, swaying trees and crumbling mountains, filled with the crashing of waterfalls and the cries of soaring eagles. She was timeless as the earth, yet young and free as a newborn babe. She was both sides of earth, both sides of magic; light and dark, peace and chaos.

"_Now, Childe…" _Mother said, grasping Harry's shoulders with a grip both firm and gentle, leaning him away from her. "_You had… questions…"_

Harry shook himself, ridding his mind of the peaceful fog sparked with fire that the music brought to him. "Yes…" He muttered dazedly. Shaking himself again, he waited for his mind to clear before continuing. "Yes, the animals. I assume they are part of me as well?"

"_Yes Childe… they are you… both your mutant… side, and… magic…"_ Mother raised a ghostly hand, whistling sharply in the relative silence of Harry's forest. The sound echoed sharply through the memory-trees, and their surroundings were still for scarcely a second. Then, through the trees, came all the creatures, magical and muggle, within the forest, silvery forms gliding between the spectral trees.

A red-tailed hawk, bleached pasty mahogany and white, alighted on the green sleeved arm, cawing sharply. Two wolves, male and female, slunk sinuously over to Harry who was leaning against the rough bark of the redwood, Kaen's arm slung comfortingly over his shoulders. The two lupines nosed Harry's hand, producing a gentle giggle from the boy, before lying down entwined at either side of the pair of teens. A duo of deer, one a proud twelve-point stag, the other a meek doe, sauntered over, once again nosing Harry, snuffling through his hair, before continuing on.

This pattern continued through each pair of animals; hawks, eagles, jaguars, panthers, on and on through most, if not all, of the animals known to man and wizard alike. Each sniffed and appraised their new master before either settling next to Harry and Kaen, or continuing through the clearing to the other side of the forest.

"_These are… your mutant power… and my gift… to you and… Kaen…" _Mother said, smiling radiantly at the array of beasts arranged around her Childe and his protector. _"They will… protect you… and give you… their language… their kin… will be your allies…"_

Here, Kaen took over; repeating the knowledge Mother had given him in order to educate his _Cara_. "The ones you see here are your main forms." He gestured at the six pairs of animals standing or lying around the two boys. Panting Wolves, subtly hissing Cobras, graceful Panthers, proud Falcons, majestic Pegasi (plural for Pegasus), and powerful Dragons.

Harry smiled at the beautiful silvery animals sprawled around him, before turning towards Kaen. "What do you mean by forms? Do I turn into them?"

Both Kaen and the Mother smiled at Harry's quick thinking. Kaen smiled at Mother cheekily, saying "I _knew_ he was smart," before turning back to Harry.

"Well, yes and no _Cara._ As a mutant, you take on some of their attributes. Senses, claws, fangs, that sort of thing. You'll see about that when you use 'em." Kaen winked. "As a wizard, they are your animagus forms. Yes," he said, holding up a hand as Harry began to protest, "I know it is normal for a wizard to have only one form, and usually a mundane one at that."

"_Kaen means… muggle."_ Mother put in, seeing Harry's confusion.

"Ah, yes, muggle. Sorry mage, I am used to the older word." Kaen rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, blushing under Mother's accusing stare. "Anyway," he cleared his throat, "when have you ever been a normal wizard, eh _Cara?_"

Harry blushed, nodding at that. He'd always been a bit unusual. "Yeah, I've always been different… always been… a… freak…"His voice turned bitter at the end, and he sniffled dejectedly.

"Oh _Cara." _

"_Childe..."_

Mother and Kaen spoke at the same time, drawing Harry into the space between them and wrapping the sobbing teen in their arms. The animals arrayed around the group drew closer, nuzzling their crest fallen master comfortingly, wolves snuggling into his sides and cobras wrapping themselves closely about his toned arms.

"Mage, you know I didn't mean it like that. Yes, you are different, you are _unique, __special._" Kaen protested his _Cara's_ reaction, snuggling the teen further into his secure embrace.

"_Childe… you are no freak… you are MY CHILDE, MY HEIR. You have already been through so much, yet you are so pure, so strong. As Kaen said, you are like no other, you are SPECIAL." _Mother's voice lost the breathy quality, growing stronger throughout her impassioned speech. Slowly, Harry's voice stopped hitching and his shoulders ceased their disconsolate shaking as he leaned into their embrace, basking in the protective feelings both were emanating.

"But- but my family always said-" He stopped at the snarl rumbling through the wolves' and Kaen's chests. "Wha-?" He cringed back, terrified of their anger.

Both Kaen and the wolves surged forward, wrapping about Harry, wolves rubbing against his legs and Kaen rubbing his golden cheek against Harry's like a cat. "We are not angry and _you_ mage, only that you still think of those bastards as your family." Kaen pulled back, gazing seriously into Harry's emerald eyes. "_WE _are your family now, yes?"

"_Kaen is right… they do not… deserve to be… family to my Childe… Kaen… your animals… myself… We are your… family… and soon… more will come… " _Mother's voice was back to the breathy quality as she too reassured Harry.

"More?" Harry mumbled, thinking of his so-called family. "Like who?" He knew many of the Weasleys were not genuine in their affections, as well as many of his so called friends at Hogwarts. But what about the twins and Neville, his brothers, and Hermione and Luna, his sisters.

"Yes _Cara,_ them and more." Kaen said, predicting Harry's thought patterns. "Like your mate, yes?" He grinned cheekily at the blank look on Harry's face. "Rough appearance, built, brown hair, warm brown eyes gleaming feral gold." His grinned widened at the shock on Harry's face. "Familiar, yes?"

Harry stared, stunned. Kaen had just described the exact man that had filled his dreams for the past month, as well as his day dreams. "How- How did you know?" Harry asked, blushing sheepishly.

"I am _you, Cara, _remember? I have watched your memories, I know you. And I know that this man is your mate, yes?" Kaen nudged Harry teasingly, chuckling at the brilliant scarlet laying siege to Harry's pale skin.

"_Kaen…" _Mother scolded, voice just as teasing. "_Stop playing with… my Childe…be kind to…your brother…" _She sighed, looking longingly out into the forest, then back down at Harry. "_But, alas…time grows… short, it is… time for me… to leave…"_

Harry started violently, looking sadly over at the only motherly figure he'd known in his life. "But- I still have so many questions… do you have to go?" He reached a hand pleadingly out towards her, practically begging. He did not want her to leave.

"_Yes Childe…I must…" _Her voice was sad, reluctant, as she gently stroked his sharp cheekbone with the back of her knuckles.

Harry looked down, fighting back tears. He had been without a mother's comfort, _any _comfort, for so long. He sniffed lightly, burying his face in Kaen's shoulder.

"_Oh Childe…do not worry…you are not alone… Kaen is…with you now…and your spirit animals…will always be with you…" _She dropped a kiss on Harry's raven locks, stroked Kaen's cheek once, before heading out into the trees, feet gliding soundlessly over the misty grass. Fog eddied and swirled between the trees as the shadows swallowed her slim form, and the Mother, nature and magic, peace and chaos, was gone.

Harry and Kaen watched in glum silence as the Mother, _their _Mother, walked through the trees of Harry's mindscape and disappeared. Both sat in contemplative states, thinking on their new developments, changes, and how they would affect their lives in the years to come. Finally, Kaen broke the comfortable stillness with a yawn, standing sinuously to lean over and crack his back. "Well," he chirped brightly, looking down at his more human counterpart, "now that's over with, what say we head back to deal with those relatives of yours."

Harry snorted, thinking of the three excuses for human beings they had left in the kitchen. "What did you do with them anyway?" He queried, looking up at the mischievously grinning Kaen. "I remember you taking over, but after that I was too tired to tell what was going on."

Kaen winked, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Well, Vernon was already pinned to the wall when I decided to take control, and I was about to, er, 'take care' of him when you piped up and I headed in here. So I just pinned the horse and the pig to the wall beside their whale."

Harry burst into practically hysterical laughter at Kaen's comparison; no matter how many times he thought it to himself, his relatives' ungainly resemblance to animals always served to reduce him to tears. When he finally calmed down, excepting the occasional giggle, he rolled onto his stomach, arching his back and stretching like a cat. His two spirit panthers purred loudly, twining around him as he flexed his fingers, sharp claws sliding from his fingertips.

Harry started, seeing the wickedly curved claws, before chuckling lightly and looking up at Kaen with a speculative grin on his face. "Take on their attributes, eh?" He murmured, absently unsheathing and retracting his claws.

"Got it in one _Cara." _Kaen said, a pleased smile on his face. "Those there are 'yer panther claws, as well as some of their habits." He winked, voice sliding into a smooth, slurred accent.

"Why only these then?" Harry questioned, voice puzzled. "Aren't I supposed to take on attributes from all the animals?"

Sitting back down and folding his legs, Kaen prepared to explain the basics to his faintly confused mage. "You take on the characteristics when yer usin' the animals includin' yer main ones. However, you'll have one beast that you use most, and the things you get from that one will stay with you all the time. Seein' as the claws 'n stretchin' showed up first, I'd hazard a guess that th' kitties here are yer core animal." He chuckled at the panthers' indignant hiss at the word 'kitties'.

Harry looked up from where he had been staring absently at his palms, a slightly panicked look on his face. The two silver forms of his spirit panthers twined gracefully around him, rubbing against him with rumbling purrs. "You mean I'll have claws _all the time?"_ Harry's voice grew frantic and full of dread. "I think people will notice if I have lethal black claws coming from my fingers on regular intervals!" Harry's voice grew higher and higher, eventually becoming a feline hiss.

Kaen chuckled, saying, "That's not all _Cara. _Yer lookin' more like a kitten every minute," He said, pointing to Harry's head where lightly furred black ears peeked through his mussed ebony hair.

"Wha-?" Harry reached up, freezing in shock when his hands met pointed ears. He hissed in shock and the ears flattened back onto his skull. He clutched frantically at the sides of his head where his old ears sat, but he heard nothing from the fleshy shells, only from the triangular ears flicking to and fro.

Feeling something tickling his lower back, he whirled around to see- nothing. Yet something still tickled! He whirled again, once again finding nothing. Finally, he brought a clawed hand down to feel around near his waistband. Once again, he froze.

"KAEN?" He wailed, voice terrified, claws coming out in his distress. "What's happening to me?" As proof of his anguish, he pulled from behind him…. A tail. A black furred tail with a white tufted tip, twitching agitatedly.

Kaen couldn't resist chortling lightly under his breath at the long-suffering look on his mage's face. "It's alright mage, that's supposed to happen! We told you you'd gain certain aspects of your animals, did we not?" He full out laughed at the indignant look Harry adopted at that statement.

"Well I didn't know you meant _ears! _And a _tail?"_ Harry keened, ignoring the cats nuzzling him in contentment and satisfaction at his new features.

"Ah, kitten, I think they're cute!" Kaen teased, lightly stroking the new pattern of light grey stripes running down Harry's arms. He reached up to scratch behind the pointed ears, sniggering at the deep purr it produced. Harry nuzzled into the hand scratching at his ears, before tearing reluctantly away with a horrified look on his face. Harry blushed at his reaction, ducking his head.

Kaen laughed again before tilting Harry's head up with a slender finger. "It's alright _Cara, _this is supposed to happen, remember? Look at your kitties, how happy they are?" He gestured towards the two purring jungle cats at Harry's side. "This does not change how they feel about you, how I feel about you. It will not change how your true friends feel either." He stroked a gentle hand through Harry's hair.

"But- but what do I do about them? I can't go out in public like this!" He moaned, clawed hands frantically covering the twitching ears. He looked desperately at Kaen, lifting a hand from his head to clutch frantically at Kaen's toned arm.

"You are a wizard, yes _Cara? _A powerful one at that. What are glamours for, eh?" Kaen nudged Harry, grinning at the sheepish look when Harry realized how obvious the solution was. "You can apply one now, while in your mindscape, and no one will notice the changes on the outside, yes?"

Harry nodded, fishing his holly and phoenix wand from the back pocket of his slacks. He waved it over his lean frame, smirking as the feline ears, tail, stripes, and claws shimmered faintly before disappearing.

Kaen ran appraising eyes over Harry's figure, nodding approvingly when he noticed the changes were cloaked. The only thing that still showed was the slitted pupils of Harry's vibrant emerald green eyes.

"Good _Cara, _that will do just fine. Now lets go take care of your relatives, yes?" Kaen said, winking.

Harry nodded, a feral grin on his face, canines longer than usual, as he faded out of his mindscape.

Harry's teeth glinted bright white, long canines shining as he gave a feral grin, winked at Kaen, and faded into grey. His consciousness slowly rose from the depths of his inner forest, before rushing towards the outside world. His relatives, still pinned to the bright yellow walls of their suburban home's well lit kitchen, watched in terror as a fire was lit behind the emerald green eyes. Their nephew/cousin, who had been standing motionless in the middle of the white-tiled floor after having thrown them bodily into the wall, suddenly seemed to come to life, smirking with feline-slitted eyes towards the terrified family of three hanging on the wall like oversized spiders.

Vernon Dursley POV

Vernon Dursley had always prided himself on being a regular, hard-working, and upstanding British citizen. He worked a relatively well paying job, and had a lovely wife and a darling son, with the ideal suburban home.

His son, his darling Dudders, was the perfect son; athletic, bright, and a noble character. Overall, Dudley was the picture of health, very fit, with a hearty appetite. Of course, many people were jealous of his son's attributes, and accused him of being a bully, unintelligent, and worst of all, _overweight._ Of course, that just showed how jealous and shallow they were.

His wife, Petunia, was a lovely woman, with a well refined air and a long, elegant neck. Those same imbeciles who tried to tarnish his son's reputation claimed that Petunia was snobbish, rude, and resembled a horse. Of course, they were completely wrong; his Petal was the perfect wife.

Well, perfect except for her connection to those _freaks._ It was unnatural what those brutes could do, what with their mumbo-jumbo and waving around those sticks of theirs. Those abominations, always poking their way into his family's normal life, even before Pet's unnatural sister and that husband of hers went and got themselves blown up and foisted their ungrateful brat onto Pet and him.

The little horror was always making a mess of things, stealing the food right from Dudley's mouth. Oh, but they taught him a thing or two. How dare he take up room in their perfectly normal house, and how ungrateful he was! They gave him a perfectly good space under the stairs, but oh no, it wasn't good enough for him. Always complaining, always whining, saying he didn't get enough food when their Dudders barely got enough to live on!

And now, even after 16 years of trying to beat some sense into the boy, he had the _nerve_ to come down those stairs noisy as anything and disturb their morning. He was late for cooking the breakfast, and he didn't even apologize. Why, he even had the nerve to insult Dudders, implying that he was bloated. _Pah. _Ungrateful, sniveling _**brat.**_

And finally, worst of all, he had used those freakish powers of his to toss Vernon, Petunia and Dudley into the wall, pinning them there with that unnaturalness of his. Then he had the nerve to just stand there, blankly, like nothing had happened! Why, when Vernon got down, the boy was going to get a beating like never before! He would teach the freak a lesson.

Harry's POV

Harry smirked, listening to his Uncle rant to himself inside Vernon's overlarge head. _No need to have such a big skull when there's almost nothing in there_, Harry mused to himself, hearing Kaen chuckle at that remark in the back of his mind.

**That's true **_**Cara**_**. **Kaen sent, still sniggering. If Harry listened hard enough, he could hear his spirit animals laughing along with their animalistic chuckles, panthers purring loudly and dragons snorting in glee. The Cobras' comforting hisses bolstered his resolve and he pulled himself to the surface again, glaring mischievously at his pinned relatives.

"Hello my darlingsHarry practically purred, his predominant panther side coming through. "I see you're all just _hanging around_. Enjoying ourselves, are we?" He smirked.

Harry barely suppressed a giggle at the looks of self-righteous indignation that took over Vernon, Petunia and Dudley's faces. The unseen force that was pinning them also carried a _Silencio_ with it, keeping their words from being heard. Still, the meaning was quite clear, what with the unbecoming shade of puce Vernon's face was turning and the rather pathetic look of anger that prevailed on Petunia's visage.

Dudley simply had a shell-shocked look, like he couldn't believe what was happening. Harry vaguely remembered that fateful birthday 6 years ago, where Dudley (and Harry) got his first taste of magic. He recalled the stunned and fearful look on Dudley's face when Hagrid had given him the pig tail, and remembered that Dudley had been terrified of any magic ever since. The rather putrid smelling wet spot between Dudley's legs confirmed that fact, and Harry wrinkled his nose before spelling the scent away.

Then, he proceeded to levitate all three of his relatives down and into the wooden chairs around the circular kitchen table, renewing the _Silencio _for good measure. He was to preoccupied to notice that he did all these things without the use of the holly and phoenix feather wand tucked securely in his back pocket.

Kaen, however, was not, and smiled at the easy use of wandless magic. Wandless spells were supposed to be extremely difficult to cast, and performing a _silent_ wandless spell was practically unheard of. He grinned at more proof that his mage was showing evidence of quickly becoming one of the most powerful wizards since Merlin. And soon, maybe even more powerful.

Harry smirked as he smoothly floated his relatives into place, before casting a quick _Incarcerous_, the magicked ropes binding them securely to the sturdy wooden backs of the chairs. Once the spell work was done, he idly retrieved his wand from his pocket, not even noticing it's absence, and absentmindedly began tapping it on his palm. Black and silver sparks fell from the tip, dancing and flickering through the air before dissipating before they reached the floor.

"Hmmmm…" He mumbled. "What to do with you?" He walked fluidly in a circle around the bound figures, trying to brainstorm ideas of how to deal with his wayward 'family'. Coming up short, he asked, "Perhaps you have some ideas?" With a lazily flick of his wand he cast _Muffliato_ about the room, ensuring that no one would hear the goings on, before removing the _Silencio _from his relatives, one at a time.

First, his Uncle Vernon. While most of his response was in the form of wordless, indignant shouting, Harry was able to glean the gist from in between the sputtering. It was something along the lines of; "LET US GO YOU FREAK! WHY YOU LITTLE! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!"

Quickly, Harry recast the silencing spell, muttering, "Well you're no help." Petunia's words were much the same, though they included an array of specific bodily harm she'd have liked to inflict using various Kitchen tools and appliances, including a frying pan.

Dudley's comments were even less helpful, not even coming close to any form of conversation or sentence structure. Mostly, he whimpered pathetically, throwing in a few helpless sobs and pleas for mercy every now and then.

Harry scoffed at the unsatisfactory response, before delving internally.

Kaen, do you have any suggestions? He sent, thinking that his inner feral would probably have at least some ideas on how to deal with the three blubbering idiots in front of him.

Kaen sent back a mental grin, along with the words; **well I'm glad you asked kitten (1) why don't you let one or two of your spirit beasts deal with them? **

Harry started, pulling his attention completely away from the outside. What do you mean? I thought they couldn't take control, that only you could. He didn't need various animals running amok within his body without his knowledge.

**Don't worry **_**Cara, **_Kaen soothed. **They can't control the body, only you and I. However, you can bring them out, if you call them.**

Really? Harry was ecstatic; if he could bring his animals out he wouldn't be alone all the time, he'd have companions.

**Yes **_**Cara, **_**though only your main ones. The others must stay inside you, though you can call their kin on the outside to you if you wish. There simply have to be beasts nearby of the species, they will respond to your call**. Kaen chuckled lightly at Harry's childish amusement; his mage was glad to have friends to call at any time. Harry was so used to being alone, to not having anyone with him. The beasts would be good for him; even savage animals would love and protect him as the Mother's Childe. He was their prince; the wolves' cub, the unicorn's foal.

This time, Harry couldn't resist a giggle. Okay, how do I bring them out? He asked, practically bouncing in glee.

**Just call them, they will come to you.** Kaen replied, sitting back on the tree branch he reposed on, watching his mage at work.

'Just call them'… Harry thought, then shrugged, deciding to do what he always did; wing it. He sunk into his mindscape, gazing around at the unfamiliar forest that had become his mental representation of himself (or at least, that's what Snape said the mindscape meant). _Now what?_ He wondered, looking blankly around at the misty trees with swaying green leaves made of memories. The now familiar music carrying Mother's words and knowledge washed over him like a wave, gentle melody twining about his still form.

Sighing, Harry closed his eyes, letting the music flow through him. Absently, he raised an arm, not even noticing he'd moved, palm up towards the swirling blue sky. Just like Mother had before, Harry let out a piercing whistle that rang out through the spectral trees. The sharp sound echoed throughout the grove for only a moment, before Harry's surroundings faded into silence again. For minutes, nothing moved in the stillness of Harry's mindscape.

Then, two forms slunk lithely out from between the trees, bellies low to the ground in a hunting crouch. Deep, rumbling purrs sounded from the pair of smoky, ethereal panthers that stalked towards Harry. Seeing them, Harry fell out of his trance and placed his hands on their foreheads.

Outside, Harry's deep green eyes flashed gold, and wisps of winds whirled around, dancing through strands of ebony hair. Two bright spots of light sparkled in his hands which laid limp at his sides, and slowly ghostly forms began to take shape. Slowly, the tendrils of smoke solidified, forming into a pair of panthers with shining black fur and glowing silver eyes.

Looking down, Harry gently stroked behind the regal cats' ears with an elegant hand. Panthers by his side, he looked back up at his relatives, and grinned.

The two felines slunk, bellies low to the ground in a hunting crouch, towards the unfortunate trio tied involuntarily to the sturdy wooden chairs surrounding the mahogany table in the centre of the room. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley were all strapped unceremoniously to their seats, faces pale and sweaty, and hands shaking by their sides. Their freak nephew had just produced a pair of very large, ferocious jungle cats from thin air. Said cats were currently on their way across the kitchen towards them.

Dudley, ever the first to be seen, attempted to curl his extremely large bulk into himself, trying extremely unsuccessfully to make himself invisible. When he realized that his efforts were going nowhere, Dudley simply opted to stare, terrified, at the predators slinking their way towards him, a tell-tale wet spot appearing on the front of his already soiled khaki trousers.

Petunia stared wide-eyed at the magnificent ebony felines, no doubt remembering the days when her sister, the 'lovely Lily' had shown magic, realizing it was nothing like this, not even close. The occasional change of hair and skin color, the odd floating object or two, and sometimes putrid potions bubbling away in their mother's best sauce pan, were all Petunia really knew of magic. To see this mere boy conjure living, snarling _panthers_ with his bare hands went beyond anything Petunia ever knew, beyond anything she had ever seen. For once in her life, she began to think that maybe, just maybe, angering her nephew wasn't the smartest thing to do, and definitely was not in her best interest.

Vernon, stubborn idiotic land-whale that he was, thought nothing of the nonchalant display of power he had just witnessed. All he saw was more proof that his nephew, the scrawny ungrateful brat that he was, was simply an unnatural freak of nature who deserved to be put down so that he didn't contaminate anyone else with that freakishness of his. He paid no attention to the yowling, snarling panthers stalking their way determinedly across the smooth white-tiled kitchen floor towards him, focusing only on the slight form of his nephew.

Said nephew was standing a good two yards away from them, trying to decide whether to begin shaking with laughter or rage. Using Legilimency on his rather weak-minded relatives took no effort or concentration at all, merely the though of entering the other's mind(s). Finally, Harry settled on chuckling mirthlessly at Dudley's pathetic antics, shaking his head wryly at the realization his Aunt had taken far too long to reach, and snarling angrily at his Uncle's pigheaded bigotry.

Looking down at the Panthers, Harry voiced a command, unaware that it came out in a series of hisses, growls and purrs, very similar to a kind of Parsletounge-esque speech, only for felines. He growled at them to; **play nicely, just rile them up a bit.**

Harry could have sworn the two cats nodded regally before going off to toy with their new prey. Chortling at the terrified look on Dudley's face, he sunk back into his mind, searching for the softly glowing presence of Kaen among the trees. Wandering beneath the oaks and willows, Harry finally found Kaen lounging lazily on a tree branch, one sun-bronzed arm dangling off the side. Grinning mischievously, Harry glided soundlessly to beneath the tree where Kaen lay, tugging harshly on the arm hanging right next to his face.

Kaen yowled much like a cat as he flipped off the branch, landing roughly in a pile of leaves that had accumulated beneath the oak tree where he laid. Crimson, umber and yellow foliage flew into the air, swirling in a silver wind. Kaen grunted as he hit the ground, sprawling ungainly in the fallen leaves. He groaned, rolling his head to the side. He blinked dazedly up at Harry, golden eyes clouded with confusion.

"_Cara?"_ He groaned, shaking his head lightly.

"Hello Kaen." Harry giggled, barely suppressing his full out laughter. "What are you doing on the ground?" He cocked his head to the side cutely, emerald eyes sparkling with glee.

Kaen glowered balefully up at the chortling Harry, and shook his head mutely, clambering to his feet. "Little devil child…" He muttered under his breath, sending Harry his best death-glare.

"Oi!" Harry exclaimed indignantly. "Who're you calling' a child! You're barely a day old after all." He drew himself up with a superior air.

Kaen just grinned, saying, "Ah, older you may be, but not wiser." His grin widened and he ruffled Harry's already mussed hair playfully. Kaen stepped back, leaning a shoulder against the tree he'd been lying in. "So what'd ya want, eh _Cara? _Ya wanted something, yes? Or did you just want to annoy me?" He winked, nudging Harry with a foot as he moved to sit down near Kaen's feet.

"Oh shove off." Harry scoffed, falling easily into the playful banter he used with his brothers. Kaen already had a firm place as part of his family, inner beast or no. "I was dealing with the Dursleys and left my spirit panthers to 'play' with them. I came to see if you wanted a turn." Harry sniggered with malicious glee.

Kaen grinned ferally, gold eyes glinting with a wild light. His canine teeth lengthened into fangs, and the black slitted pupils of his eyes dilated in malevolent satisfaction. "Really?" He giggled. "Oooh, it'll be fun to play with our new toys, the kitties and I." He smirked at Harry, who returned the sentiment, winked, and faded out of their mindscape towards the outside world.

Outside of Harry's mind, all his relatives noticed –when they weren't preoccupied with the two black panthers swiping tauntingly at them with sheathed claws– was Harry putting his head down and closing his eyes for a few moments. Then, with no cue at all, his head snapped back up, eyes flying open. The Dursleys, momentarily forgetting their problems regarding vicious jungle cats, gasped in disbelief. Once again, Harry's eyes, formerly emerald, shone a warm gold that was quickly fading into poisonous yellow in malignant glee.

Kaen giggled merrily, happy to play with his new toys now that his mage was safe and happy. He looked down at their body, noting how it had filled out in Harry's inheritance, reverting to the state it would have been in had the Dursleys taken proper care of his _Cara_. "Tch." He hissed, removing the glamours over Harry's stripes, and other various cat-like features. Black ears peeked through ebony hair, tail weaving sinuously in the air behind them; grey stripes streaked across their face and arms as fangs slid down, and wickedly curved black claws slid through their fingertips.

Kaen grinned, turning to face the stunned Dursleys. "_Hello pets_." Kaen purred; words slightly distorted around their bestial fangs. He called the two jungle cats back to them with a gesture of their hand, waiting until the pair had sat gracefully to either side of them before looking back over at the three Dursleys. "_Do you like my kitties, here?"_ He teased, gently stroking the glossy, domed heads of the regal cats beside them.

Kaen paid no attention to the Dursleys' half indignant, half terrified spluttering, focusing on his plans for his new toys. These bastards had hurt his Harry, and they deserved everything they were about to get. Harry's spirit panthers were growling in rage, teeth bared; glaring at the ones that had hurt their master. All through the house, the wind picked up violently, and even the music carried with it sang of nature's anger towards the people that had hurt _their Childe_. Kaen, usually even-tempered, let out his true animalistic side, reveling in the game of playing with those that had dared to hurt _his_ _Cara_.

He stepped forward, stalking across the white-tiled kitchen floor towards Harry's relatives, starting with Vernon. Standing in front of the hideously overweight man, he leaned forward until their face was inches in front of Dursley's unbecomingly puce-tinted one. The two cats wound menacingly around the pair in ever decreasing circles, swirling silver eyes focused on the shaking form of Harry's uncle.

"_Now," _Kaen said, head cocked to the side, "_why don't you explain to me why you thought you could get away with what you've done to us?"_ The words rolled of their tongue as he stared unblinkingly into Vernon's watery blue eyes. He watched as the land-whale's mustache bristled angrily, mouth forming words but no sound audible to their ears. Belatedly, Kaen realized that he'd forgotten to lift the _Silencio, _and did so, wincing at the sudden thundering noise.

"WHY, YOU FREAK! RELEASE ME AT ONCE YOU MONSTER! HOW DARE YOU?" Vernon roared, face flushing scarlet. "WHEN I'M THROUGH WITH YOU-!" He was cut off by Kaen's hand over his mouth, then began sputtering self-righteously at the interruption.

"_Ah-ah-ah." _Kaen teased, waving a single slender finger in Dursley's face. _"Let's not yell, yes? Stay nice and quiet so you don't hurt the kitties' sensitive ears. After all, we wouldn't want them to be mad at us, now would we?" _Kaen winked, gesturing with their hand towards the enraged and rumbling cats.

Kaen waved a hand, conjuring a wooden bar-stool which he proceeded to place in front of the three Dursleys. Folding themselves gracefully onto the stool, he leaned their head on a hand and said, "_Now, hows- about you answer my question, hmm? What made you think you could get away with hurting my mage?" _He glared at each of them in turn, waiting.

Vernon just continued to splutter, so Kaen waved a hand, silencing him once again. Dudley, like the coward he is, simply whimpered, staring in terror at the two cats. Kaen sneered in disgust, letting the boy rile himself up in his own fear.

Finally, Petunia spoke. "You deserved everything you got you freak!" She spat, hissing. "Always doing unnatural things, poking your nose into other peoples' perfectly respectable lives. Doing your unnatural magic, acting like you're better than everyone else. Now you're even talking like you're someone else! You're an abomination-" She yelped, cutting herself off at the murderous look on Kaen's face.

"_First," _he spoke through clenched teeth, "_let's get something straight, yes? We are not a freak. You are __not__ to call myself or my _Cara_ that ever again." _He sat back, crossing their arms with a speculative look on their face. _"Now, as for speaking like I'm someone else. You are correct, I am not Harry." _

Petunia was seething, a scathing look on her equine-like face. "What do you mean you're not him? Of course you are, you unnatural brat!"

"_Tch"_ Kaen hissed, lifting a clawed finger to her face threateningly. "_What did we say about those nasty names, pet? Do we need to remind you?" _He backed off as Petunia shook her head quickly. "_Good. Now, as we said before, I am not Harry. I am in his body yes, but I am not him."_

Harry's Aunt blanched, rearing back in shock. "Then you're one of those schizophrenics, you're insane!" She shrieked, struggling uselessly. "Having an alternate personality, you really _are_ a freak!"

"_Tsk ,tsk; you know we don't like you calling us that." _Kaen chided, turning to look at the panthers. "_Why don't we teach her a lesson pets? Call your brethren; they can join in the fun too."_ The cats gave fierce grins then, in unison, closed their silver eyes and laid down as if going to sleep.

For a minute, nothing moved. Then, in much the same manner as the panthers had before, brilliant spots of light took form all over the kitchen, swirling and shifting until solidifying into animals. A pair of Wolves, Cobras, and Falcons appeared from the bright glow, all staring towards the three humans that hurt their Master. Kaen grinned ferally, animals around him, and raised a clawed hand-

Only to freeze at the sound of someone banging noisily on Number 4's front door. Kaen cursed loudly, ignoring the Dursley's relieved gasps which were quickly silenced by the black jungle cats' growls. He gave an appreciative towards the panthers before gesturing to all the animals to return to spirit. Following them back inside of Harry after one last baleful glance towards the Dursleys, Kaen landed back next to the giant redwood in the central clearing.

"Kaen!" Harry shouted, startled at his feral's sudden appearance. "What's wrong?" He asked, noting Kaen's disappointed mutterings about 'not being able to play with his toys'.

"Someone's outside the house, they interrupted my time with my new playthings." Kaen pouted, crossing his arms like a scorned child. Harry laughed at his reaction, teasingly wiping a fake tear from his eye.

"Well, I'd best get back out there, shall I?" Harry stated, still chuckling at random intervals. Looking around at all his spirit animals, he said, "Thank you for helping, especially you two," nodding at the panthers. He stopped, fingering his chin with a speculative look on his face. "You know, I really should name you…"

The two cats purred a laugh, rubbing themselves along their Master's legs. The pair spoke in turns, soft voices underplayed with growls. (**Male…**female… **both** applies to all spirit animals)

"**There is no need Princeling…**we have names that Mother gave us…**we are honored to serve our Prince, the Mother's Childe…**and would be honored for you to call us by name…**I am Dominick… **and I am Dahna…**They mean Lord and Lady."** They swept a bow, one paw in front of them with heads down, and then continued. "**Each of your spirit beasts are a pair…**and each will advise you as such…**their names are theirs to tell…**" They finished, before sauntering side by side back into the forest, disappearing among the shadows.

"They're like Fred and George." Harry mused, ignoring Kaen's amused laughter at that observation. "Well I'd best be going then." He said, turning to give Kaen a wave.

"Have fun _Cara!_" Kaen shouted as Harry disappeared.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The shrill, blaring alarm rang through the halls of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, echoing off the pristine floors. Despite being just 6 o'clock in the morning, the school was a hive of activity, a number of people sprinting through the hallways from all over the building and grounds, converging on a single spot; Professor Xavier's office.

The stately room, carpeted in a warm brown with dark oak furniture, was already occupied by several people. One was the Professor himself, seated in the usual wheelchair behind the large scrolled wooden desk. Another was Scott Summers, code name Cyclops, ruby sunglasses glinting in the morning light from where he was seated properly in front of the Professor. Seated next to him was his Fiancé, the telepath Jean Grey, sunlight setting her brilliant red hair aglow.

Dr. Hank McCoy, also known as Beast, was seated next the pair, suit jacket pulled over his characteristic blue fur. Like a nature spirit, Ororo Munroe, commonly know as Storm, lounged near the open window, long white hair swaying softly in the breeze.

Gambit and Rouge were curled up on the chaise lounge along one wall, talking quietly. The wily Cajun had finally convinced the southern belle to try a serious relationship with him, and so far the thief and fiery girl were still going strong despite Rouge's inability to have skin-to-skin contact. They just made do with limited touching, like the brush of a gloved hand over a rough cheek, mainly relying on smoldering glances between brown and red-rimmed eyes.

Lastly, Logan, code name Wolverine, banged into the room. As usual, his appearance was rough; jagged stubble, low-rider jeans, white tee-shirt covered in a worn leather jacket, and dark brown motorcycle boots. Also as usual, the Canadian man was chewing determinedly on a cigar held firmly between his lips. Scott twitched at the man's loud entrance; Cyclops and Wolverine didn't always see eye to eye regarding Logan's rough and animalistic habits.

Not that it was really the man's fault. Logan and the feral Wolverine were too closely intertwined to really differentiate between the two, and it didn't take much to set the change from man to animal off. Even when the Wolverine was dormant, a lot of his characteristics showed through, and combined with Logan's confrontational personality, it made the man rather rough around the edges.

"What's the matter Chuck?" Logan said, blunt as ever. He was not exactly ecstatic at having an otherwise relaxing day start out with the so-called 'panic alarm' going off at 6 o'clock in the bloody morning.

Professor Xavier didn't even flinch, calmly stating; "Straight to the point as usual Logan!" With a genial air. Ignoring Logan's mutterings about 'bloody morning people', and Rouge slapping Gambit over the head for some cheeky comment, he continued. "Well, down to business then."

Leaning forward in his wheelchair, hands steepled in front of him, Charles Xavier was the picture of dignified severity. "Cerebro detected a new mutant this morning, likely just having come into the power." His voice was grave and solemn.

Logan snorted, breaking the air of gravity in the situation. "And you felt the need to tell us this _immediately?_" His voice was incredulous. "Chuck, we find mutants regularly, there has to be something more important than that to tell us!" He scoffed, voice muffled around his cigar. Scott shot a scathing look at him, most likely for his casual address of the professor, something the two clashed on regularly.

Xavier simply chuckled at Logan's frankness, waving away Scott's indignant protests. "Yes Logan, there is more to it than that. As you all know, we do find mutants regularly around the globe having just come into their genetic powers." He leaned back, forehead creased in concentration as he explained. "And usually, we send someone to collect them, Cerebro having found their location…"

The Professor sighed. "Unfortunately, this is no simple operation. This mutant, whoever they are has caused several dilemmas for me. First and foremost, he or she is an Omega-level mutant, or higher."

Scott, Jean, Storm and Hank gasped, while the others adopted expressions of shocked disbelief. Omega-level mutants had an exceptional level of power, with the most powerful genetic potential for their abilities. These abilities, including immortality, extreme manipulation of matter and energy, and strong telepathy and telekinesis, took months if not years to learn to control. If not contained and taught, Omega mutants could effectively destroy a good sized town, usually through no fault of their own. No one, not even the Professor, was higher than an Omega. To be that strong was unthinkable.

"Who are they?"

"_Where_ are they?"

"What if the Brotherhood finds out?"

They all spoke at once, clamoring over each other.

Xavier waved a hand, quieting their questions, before continuing. "Also, though I do not understand how this is possible, they are a feral." This time all of them gasped, minds reeling with the thought of an exceedingly strong mutant with an easily angered animalistic side. If someone set them off…

Logan, however, was intrigued. Whoever this was, when they found him or her, they were strong. Anyone that powerful would be a good fight, and Logan –and the Wolverine– loved nothing more than a good fight.

Jean shot Logan a sharp look for his thoughts, still not having completely grasped the concept of privacy, before turning back to look at Xavier. "Professor, where are they? We have to find them, whoever they are, and soon!"

Scott jumped in urgently, saying, "We'd take the X-jet, it's ready in the hanger."

But the Professor waved them off, sighing heavily. The occupants watched him with concern, never having seen the usually vibrant man look so old. "Unfortunately," he began, locking them all with a serious gaze, "Cerebro… can not find where they are. They appeared for a moment, but, when I went to look into their mind for their location, I was thrown rather violently out. All I got was a wild sounding voice warning me 'not to come near his _Cara',_ and for some reason, a glimpse of trees,and then they were gone."

Jean looked at the Professor incredulously, protesting, "But Professor, you're the strongest telepath known! How could they have thrown you out?" It was true; Professor Xavier was _the_ most powerful telepath in the world, and one of the most experienced.

"I don't know." Xavier stated, passing a hand over his face. "It did not feel like any kind of telepathy I know of, more like I was physically flung from their mind. I could literally feel two hands grabbing me and tossing me out, as if I was actually there."

"Professor," Hank began, leaning forward intently, "you said you saw a glimpse of trees, correct? Like there was scenery in the person's mind?" The Doctor looked reluctant, almost fearful of the answer.

"Yes, I did." Xavier said, looking questioningly at the blue-furred man. "Why do you ask?"

Hank just groaned, staring firmly at the ground. He began mumbling incoherently, though it sounded suspiciously like, "Oh, no, this is bad. This is really, _really _bad."

"Hank?" Storm cautiously asked, receiving no response. Scott and Jean also tried, but Dr. McCoy remained studiously glaring at the carpet.

"Oi, Bub, what'd the floor ever do to ya?" Logan growled, fed up with the furred man's mutterings. Hank started, finally looking up, before rubbing a hand sheepishly over the back of his neck.

Hank cleared his throat, whispering, "Umm… Sorry… it's just that… damn." The others looked at him in surprise, never having heard the gentle-mannered man curse before. The doctor stood up and began to pace worriedly, back and forth, back and forth, in front of Xavier's desk. He waved his hands about, and seemed to be having an internal debate as he practically wore a hole in the carpet. The other mutants in the room simply watched avidly as, after pausing and cursing softly under his breath, Hank stalked determinedly over to the fireplace.

He stood staring blankly down at it for a moment, then, finally making a decision, reached a hand into an inner pocket in his coat, drew out a handful of powder and threw it into the crackling flames. They flashed a bright green and, shouting something unintelligible, Hank stepped into the fire and was gone.

* * *

Kaen watched as his mage disappeared from their mindscape, fading into the shadows between the trees. He sat back, watching through Harry's eyes, wondering who had interrupted his fun.

Harry's eyes bled back to green as he returned to consciousness in the cheery yellow kitchen. He looked over at the still bound Dursleys and hissed, "Not a word of this, to _anyone_." When his relatives protested he lifted a clawed hand threateningly, cutting them off. "Do you _like_ playing with Dahna and Dominick then?" At their blank looks he realized that they didn't know the panthers' names and grumbled, "The very large, very angry jungle cats you had the pleasure of meeting a few minutes ago."

The Dursleys quickly quieted down. Yanking his wand from his back pocket, Harry jumped when his hand brushed fur before remembering the tail peeking out of his jeans. Recasting his glamour charm over his feline characteristics, he unbound the Dursleys and, giving them a final glare in warning, slipped out the kitchen door to see who was knocking.

Pausing momentarily in the calm, blue painted entry hall to give himself a once over for animal traits, he threw open the door, and froze.

"Draco!" He yelled, leaping forward to throw his arms around the taller blonde's neck. He froze at the sound of someone clearing their throat before looking guiltily over Draco's shoulder. "Oh, sorry Lucius." He apologized, sheepishly tucking his arms behind him. "What are you two doing here?" He asked as he pulled back, looking speculatively over the two well-dressed blonde wizards.

"Well _before_ you attacked me, we were coming to visit." Draco said jokingly, reaching out to ruffle Harry's hair. "Are you going to let us in Scarhead?" He teased.

"Oh! Of course," Harry blushed, stepping back to let father and son through. "My relatives are, er, preoccupied for the moment so the sitting room should be free." He led the way towards the small sitting room off the den.

Despite Petunia having no proper motherly instinct whatsoever, she did have good taste in decorating. White leather chairs and couches with royal blue pillows were centered around a large glass coffee table, black metal contrasting against the stark ivory. Behind the table a fireplace paved with silver-veined marble housed acrylic logs, guarded by a wrought-iron screen. Scrolled blue, black and silver metal twined to create a floral design along the trim, and ebony statues were displayed in see-through glass cases. All in all a very muggle setting, but not overdone.

Harry threw himself unceremoniously into one of the chairs, reveling in the fact that his relatives could do nothing about it. He watched as Draco and Lucius seated themselves, sitting down with, as always, the proper pureblood pride.

If anyone had told him a year ago that he would become friends with _the_ Draco Malfoy, his childhood archrival/nemesis, son of Lucius Malfoy, well know snobbish pureblood and notorious Death Eater, he would've laughed himself silly. After all, he was the golden-boy, the Light's savior, and the Malfoy's were notorious for the Dark Arts.

But, as it turned out, Snape wasn't the only spy for the light side. It was completely by chance that Harry even found out, but with his luck, it was inevitable.

*Flashback*

_Harry nearly sprinted down the drafty corridor, boots thumping noisily against the stone. Ducking around a corner and into a shady alcove, he leant over to catch his breath, hands on his knees as he puffed noisily. Even with his malnourishment at the hands of the Dursleys, years of 'Harry hunting' combined with his quidditch muscles and lithe build meant that he was one of the fastest runners in his year; he should be safe there for a while._

_But he was the bloody boy-who-wouldn't-freaking-die, why would he ever get a moment's peace?_

"_Harry?" A high-pitched voice sounded from his left. Whipping his head around fast enough to get whiplash, he nearly groaned at the sight, wanting to bash his head against the wall in frustration._

_Ginny, red hair waving in the breeze, fake eyelashes fluttering and a look that was _supposed _to be seductive –but looked more like she was just stung by a bee– on her face, stood next to him. The white dress shirt she wore under her robes had the first few buttons undone, and she was biting her lip. All in all, the picture of everything Harry __**did not**__ want; he was gay for crying out loud!_

"_Yes Ginny?" He asked, attempting to be polite. If she asked him one more time-_

"_Um, I was just wondering," She started, scuffing her foot along the ground; "if you'd reconsidered my offer to, yknow, go out?"_

_And it was official, Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, had officially gone crazy. No matter how many times he said no, no matter how blunt, frank, or rude he was this bint just __**would not give up**__. Every day of every week, she asked if he'd 'reconsidered'. And every day of every week he told her no, because HE. WAS. __**GAY.**__ Whether the girl was too stupid to know what that meant or was just too oblivious to care, he didn't know._

"_No Ginny, for the last time, I won't go out with you!" He began the familiar speech again. "For Merlin's sake, I'm GAY! You know, bent, poof, fairy? I like men!"_

_And here was her part. "Oh but Harry, I just know if you'd give it a chance you'd realize that we're perfect for each other. This gay thing is just a phase you're going through, we're meant to be together."_

_And back to Harry. "No Ginny, we're not." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And this isn't just a phase. How long will it take to get it into your head that __**I don't like girls?**__" And without giving her time to answer, Harry slipped off into the shadows, sliding unobtrusively into the boy's bathroom a ways down the hall._

"_Why won't she just leave me alone?" Harry asked the open air, staring blankly at the door. "I should have just let the hat put me in Slytherin." He mumbled, passing a hand over his face._

"_Potter?" A cautious voice came from over by the sinks. Harry sighed; he'd thought he'd be alone, well, except for Myrtle. No one came up to the 2__nd__ floor bathroom after the incident in 2__nd__ year. He turned slowly, then raised a skeptical eyebrow._

"_Malfoy?" Draco Malfoy, the Ice Prince of Slytherin, sat curled up on the tiled floor near the sink, blonde hair mussed out of it's carefully styled curtain, and tear tracks on the pale face. "What's wrong?" Harry asked, savior mode kicking in._

_For a moment, Malfoy looked surprised, shocked even, before his mask of cool indifference slipped back into place. "Why do you care Potter? Did the Weasel and the know-it-all finally decide to run off?" He sneered, ignoring the crystal drops on his cheeks._

_Harry just sighed, running a hand through already messy hair, careful not to disturb the locks covering his scar. Looking away towards the door, he replied; "Weasley and Granger are off snogging somewhere, or reporting to the old codger on my whereabouts, and I just got away from the little slut." He figured Malfoy wouldn't mind if he used the names he called them in his head, after all Malfoy called them worse out loud. "And I care because it's not every day you find the Ice Prince of Slytherin finally letting his mask down." He continued, letting his own Golden Boy mask drop._

_Draco Malfoy had always despised Potter, the savior, the golden-boy. He was the epitome of a Gryffindor; rash, bold, rude, and confrontational, wearing their hearts on their sleeves with no consideration for subtlety. Also, Potter was heralded as the savior, famous and cocky as any celebrity._

_But this was no head-strong, snobbish icon of a Gryffindor, delighting in idiotic feats of pointless courage and completely devoted to the manipulative old bastard called the Leader of the Light. No, standing in front of him was a cool, composed character with cold eyes and an icy smirk worthy of any Slytherin. Malfoy raised an approving eyebrow, noting the carefully chosen words and derogatory comments regarding his two so-called 'friends'. But, how had this happened? How did Potter suddenly become this snake?_

"…_Potter?" Malfoy's voice was even more cautious._

"_Oh calm down Malfoy, I didn't suddenly turn into this." Harry replied, correctly predicting Malfoy's train of thought. "Like I said when I came in, I was supposed to be in Slytherin. But like the stupid, naive little Gryffindor I was at the time, I let Dumbledore's planned comments about Salazar's house's so-called evil nature influence me." He stepped over to the wall across from where Draco was sitting and slid down with a groan, folding neatly into a cross-legged position and resting his head on his hand. "Of course, I regret that more than ever."_

_Draco was silent, attempting to reconcile with the extreme paradigm shift he'd just experienced. Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, was supposed to be a _Slytherin? _The lion was actually a snake? _

_No, he thought, a snake in lion's clothing. He turned this thought over and over in his mind, trying to come to grips with it, before Harry suddenly turned his head, fixing Draco with a cold stare in those swirling emerald eyes. "I have a mask any of you would be proud of; I have to act like one of _them _every day of my life." And Harry looked away again, focusing on everything and nothing._

_For a minute, everything was quiet. Then, Draco spoke, barely above a whisper. "I know what you mean… I have to act like a bigoted, idiotic pureblood every day… We all do. We try to keep up with the image of our house; as if we'd actually want to serve that maniac." Harry simply sat there, letting Draco talk. "Yesterday, my father told me that the Dark Lord had called for my mother. She went, and he told her that she was to bring me to him to be his servant. She refused; she would not kneel to that monster, and neither would I. For her defiance, he killed her, but for her strength, he made it quick." Silently, the tears began to flow again, streaking down the pale face. "Father told me that she was so beautiful, so strong." He looked up at Harry, desperation in his mercury eyes. _

"_We do not want to serve that mad-man. You must believe me." He pleaded, letting his mask crumble into pieces in front of the person he once hated. _

_Harry said nothing, merely scooted over and threw his arms about the blonde's neck. For the first time since he was 6, Draco broke down and cried._

*End Flashback*

Once Draco had calmed down, he explained that his Father had gone to Professor Snape offering, no, _asking_ to be a spy for the light. The Pureblooded man was too proud to go to Dumbledore; light or not, he **would not** serve another Master. So Severus reported that he had an anonymous spy, another member of the inner circle who would pass along info through him. With Lucius' help they were able to counter a number of Death Eater raids, and during the last battle Lucius and most –if not all– of the school age Slytherins that were among the dark's ranks turned on the Dark side and helped to apprehend or kill a great deal of Death Eaters.

Despite the Weasleys' protests, the new minister, Madam Amelia Bones, pardoned both Lucius and Severus for their aid in the war, and waived all the Slytherins that had aided the Light. So Lucius was a free man, and Draco was free to be who he really was. Harry and Draco were planning on coming out with their friendship that year, as they had slowly been working through their past and forging a strong camaraderie between them. The two joked that the other was the brother they never had, and the pair of opposites in appearances were practically twins in personality.

Harry looked at Draco and Lucius sitting across from him and asked, "So what's up? Not that I'm not glad to see you, but this was kind of unexpected."

Lucius smirked, while Draco stuck his nose in the air and teased; "Can't a guy come to see his friend every once in a while?" Harry mock glared at him and replied;

"Not when said friend is Draco Malfoy, and especially not when he brings his father along." He looked apologetically at Lucius for the jibe, but the man just waved it off.

Draco chuckled and winked, admitting; "Alright, we came to see how you were doing. After all, it was your birthday last night, and I wanted to see how much my brother had changed after his magical coming of age!" He stood up, walking in circles around where Harry sat slumped in his chair. "And I must say, you're looking much better than before. Less skinny, nice golden skin tone, some gold flecks in your eyes. Face thinned out…Still short though." He teased. "But otherwise it doesn't seem like you changed much. I have to admit, with all the crap that's happened to you, I expected something a bit more drastic."

"I must agree with my son Harry, you do look better, but knowing you I feel like there's something we're missing." Lucius murmured, stroking his chin with a speculative look on his face.

"Well…" Harry hedged, biting his lower lip and looking away. Draco pounced on his hesitation and said;

"There is something, isn't there? What is it?" He sat down, crossing his arms and legs and fixing his silver eyes on Harry. "C'mon, you can tell us!" He gestured to himself and Lucius, then leant forward. Both of them stared at Harry avidly.

Harry had his eyes fixed studiously on the floor, black hair falling in a curtain in front of his eyes. Finally, he reached a hand up to brush his hair behind his ear, and looked up.

And Lucius and Draco gasped at his swirling golden eyes.

Ebony locks swung into brilliant golden eyes swirling with a wild light, and slit black pupils dilated with glee. White teeth contrasted against a tan face in a feral grin and the sun glinted off bestial fangs. As a sun-bronzed hand waved across the face, which shimmered for a moment, dark gray stripes were revealed streaking across angular cheekbones. With a snap of slender fingers, wickedly curved black claws slid from callused fingertips and they wiggled in a cheeky wave.

"_Hello _peataí _(1)."_Kaen giggled, waving at the gaping Malfoys. "_You wanted to know if something else happened to my _Cara?" He said, cocking their head to the side cutely.

"Wuh-?" Draco breathed, pureblood mask slipping. Lucius, the more experienced one at controlling his emotions, merely raised a questioning eyebrow, an expression of polite disinterest on his face. "Harry?" Draco asked cautiously.

"_Ah ah ah Dragon, 'm not Harry."_Kaen winked, leaning back in their chair. "Cara's _inside right now, he panicked too much so he let me out."_

***Flashback***

"_Kaen!" Harry shouted, plunging into his mindscape next to the giant redwood in the central clearing._

"_What is it_Cara?" _Kaen asked, landing in a crouch next to Harry, dropping from the top branch of the majestic tree. "Need some help with your friends out there?"_

"_Yes!" Harry wailed, shaking his head wildly. He fluttered his hands spastically around, eyes roving blankly across the clearing. "What do I do? What do I __**say?"**_

"Cara, Cara, _calm down." Kaen soothed, placing his hands securely on Harry's shoulders. "Now what's wrong mage?"_

"_What if they think I'm a freak?" Harry panicked, "What if they hate me, hate us?" He keened and moaned, closing his eyes in terror. "Kaen what do I do?"_

_Kaen crossed his arms, leaning against the rough bark of the tree. "Well _Cara_…" He started, hesitating for a moment. "Why don't you let me out and have me handle it?" He rubbed a hand nervously over the back of his neck."_

_Harry froze, and then looked hopefully up at his feral counterpart. If Kaen did it, Harry wouldn't have to deal with the fear of rejection while they were doing the explanation. Harry had been rebuffed and discarded so many times with just a few harsh words of the press; he couldn't bear to see his surrogate twin reject him like so many had done. "Would you?" He whispered hesitantly._

_Kaen laughed, a tender smile on his lean sun-bronzed face. Combing angular black locks behind his pointed ears he said, "Of course_Cara, _anything, you should know that." He brushed Harry's hair carefully out of his face, winked, and vanished from their mindscape._

***End Flashback***

"_M' _Cara _decided to let me explain."_Kaen grinned and winked at Draco who was still gawking in disbelief. "_So, you have questions, yes?"_He crossed their arms, slouching back into the white leather and blue accents of their chair.

Draco shook himself, pulling a mask of civil apathy, nodding sedately. "Yes," he began, choosing his words carefully, "first of all, if you're not my little brother, then who are you?" Despite only having known Harry for around 2 years, they were brothers, and Draco –having no siblings of his own– was very protective of the younger boy.

"_Good choice…"_Kaen mused, stroking their chin with their hand. "_Well _peataí_, what does that mean; my name, or _what _I am?"_He asked seriously, fixing the Malfoys with a contemplative stare.

Lucius looked suspiciously at the person in control of Harry's body. "Should have expected something like this." He muttered sardonically. He'd only known the boy for a short time, but even in that diminutive amount of time he'd realized that Harry had an unbelievable penchant for doing the things people thought he shouldn't or, more likely, **couldn't **do. So of course, an alternate personality was nothing major. "I'm assuming you're an alternate personality of some sort, correct?"

"_Right in one."_Kaen sniggered, winking mischievously at the tall blonde. Bowing from the waist he intoned; "_Kaen Sutekh (2) at your service. But I'm not just some alternate personality_deas_(3), I'm a bit more special to my _Cara _than that."_

Draco cocked his head to the side, mulling over that statement. "What do you mean?" He finally asked, not comprehending. "You're not him, you've got a different name and everything, but you're in his body. You talk different, you act different… That's pretty much the definition of an alternate personality."

But Lucius waved a hand at him, an awed look on his face. "You're not just an interchanging persona are you? The gold eyes, the slit pupils, the claws…" His voice dropped to a shocked whisper. "You- Harry's a feral mutant, isn't he? And you're his bestial side."

Kaen let out a surprised laugh, raising their eyebrow. "_**Well, **__never woulda expected __**you **__to know about mutants Blondie. Yes, I'm _Cara's _feral side."_

"Do you-" Lucius began, but he was cut off by Draco's irritated voice.

"Wait wait wait." He protested, making an X in front of his chest with his arms. "Everyone just hold on a minute. First, what the heck are mutants? Second, what the hell is a _feral_? And third, why do you keep calling my little brother this '_Cara'_ thing anyway? His name is Harry." He glared at Kaen and his father, lower lip out in a slight pout.

Chuckling, Kaen nodded their head in agreement, using a hand to brush their hair behind their ear. "_Alright Dragon, I'll explain. Mutants are, how you say, the next step in evolution… Humans with a special gene, called the X-gene, occasionally mutate, usually sometime around their 17th__birthday."_Draco noted the time, knowing that Harry had turned 17 just that morning. "_Yes Dragon, Harry is one of these people. The gene plus the mutation gives you a, shall we say, __**power. **__Each skill is specific to each person; Telekinesis, Pyrokinesis, Shapeshifting, Flight, etc., and my personal favorite, Ferals. There are, of course, different levels of power, though Mother did not inform me of their exact names."_

"_Now, Ferals are mutants with a bestial side; an animalistic personality that gives them the strength, speed, and senses of their beast. This persona acts like an alternate personality; they have a separate name and a separate identity. Each feral has an animal base, very similar to werewolves, and the accelerated agility and senses are specific to that animal. Oh,"_Kaen added, switching topics quickly, "_and _Cara _means friend. I found it a fitting title."_Kaen stopped and looked over at Draco. "_Any questions?"_

Draco just shook his head, a look of shocked disbelief on his face. "_Good."_Kaen chortled, grinning widely at the surprised boy. Then he paused and added; "_Of course, my_Cara _is special. He has me, a feral, with an animal side. But Mother also gave him a gift; after all, he is her Childe. My mage has a few more tricks up his sleeve."_Kaen said, then giggled internally; 'A **lot** more tricks.' He looked over at Lucius, raising an eyebrow at the look of reverent awe on his face.

"Did you say…" Lucius began, shaking lightly with anticipation. "Did you just say that Harry- Harry is Mother's, **the **Mother's _Childe?"_ His voice was filled with hope.

"_Yes_…" Kaen drawled, looking at Lucius confusedly. "_Why?"_He asked suspiciously.

"Please." Lucius begged, prompting Draco to stare at him in shock; his Father was a Malfoy, and Malfoys **never **begged. "Please, you must let me talk to him!" His voice was urgent, filled with burning intent.

Kaen nodded slowly, still looking at Lucius like he had gone mad. "_Alright…"_He said. "_Just a minute please."_ And he closed his eyes momentarily, face going blank. Lucius and Draco waited, anxiously and perplexedly respectively. Finally, the eyes reopened, this time glowing a vivid green.

"Umm… hi?" Harry said cautiously, ducking his head with his eyes fixed on the carpet. They shot back up as Lucius fell to his knees in front of him, bowing his head low. "Wha-?" Harry started, face filled with bewilderment, but was cut off by Lucius murmuring;

"My Prince." Winds swirled wildly through the house, throwing Lucius' long white-blonde hair through the air. His ears were revealed, tips shimmering, before sharp points flickered into view.

Draco stared in shock as his Father kneeled reverently in front of Draco's surrogate twin, watching in astonishment as Lucius' ears grew into pointed tips. A suffocating pressure was filling the room, black and silver waves of power washing through the air, flowing out from Harry's still form. Draco realized that he wanted to say something, anything, to ask someone what the hell was going on, but found that he couldn't speak, couldn't move. The pressure rose and grew, crushing down upon him, harder and harder…

Before suddenly, it released, flowing over him like a bubble had just been popped. Ebony and silver power danced around the three figures, Lucius kneeling before Harry, Draco standing in a shocked stupor behind them. Sparkles and flashes of bright fire flitted through the air, and shadowy forms began to appear throughout the Dursley's sitting room. Slowly, they solidified into Harry's pairs of spirit animals; wolves, panthers, cobras, Pegasi, falcons, and Dragons (which were smaller than usual to accommodate for the enclosed space), all with expressions of contentment on their faces. Music filled with the ringing of bells wove through the air, and a sensation of quivering excitement filled the area around them.

Lucius looked up, silver eyes brimming with tears raking over Harry's confused and frightened face. "Oh my Prince, we have waited so long." He murmured, face filled with disbelieving joy. "Finally you are here, finally our Mother finds us worthy to meet her Childe!" He laughed aloud, voice ringing with happiness. Lucius reached a pale, slender hand up, stroking it through the air over Harry's cheek bone. "My Prince, you do not know how happy you have made me, how happy my people will be to finally see you."

Lucius looked over at Draco, and the younger Malfoy gasped at the look of abject delight on his normally stoic father's face. "Oh my son, come, come, I must explain. You do not know of our family, of our Prince." He slid sinuously to his feet, a wide grin on his pale face, reaching out to tug his confused and concerned son into his arms. Lucius danced around the room, hugging his only son as he had not done in years, laughing with childish glee.

"Father?" Draco cautiously asked when the man had released him. He looked over at Harry, reading the same confusion in his eyes. Draco moved to sit beside his little brother, grasping his hand tightly. "Please, what's going on? Why are your ears pointed? What are all these animals doing here?" His voice was growing panicked.

"Please Lucius, I do not understand." Harry added in, brow furrowed in confusion. "Why do you call me your Prince? How do you know my Mother, _our_ Mother?" Dahna and Dominick (the Panthers), feeling their Master's puzzlement, slunk over, rubbing themselves against the boy's legs comfortingly.

Lucius sat down on the couch in front of the two boys, a large smile still on his angular face. "I am sorry for the confusion, it is just, we have waited so long-" He cut himself off, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. "No." He murmured to himself, "I must start at the beginning."

He sighed, folding his hands in front of him with a serious look on his face. "I will try to make this shorter as not to bore you." Turning to Draco, Lucius began.

"I have always told you that the Malfoy family prides ourselves on being pureblooded, and that is true. We have not had muggle blood in our family line for many generations due to the prejudice of our relatives. However, our family does have one well kept secret; we are only pureblooded magically." Draco gasped, while Harry just looked puzzled. Seeing his confusion, Draco explained:

"Pureblood can mean two things. One; that there is no muggle blood in the family, or two; there is no non-magical blood in the family. Option two still excludes muggle blood, but it includes…" Draco paused in shock, finally realizing what this meant.

"Magical Creature blood." He looked back at his father, astonishment written all over his pale face. "Father, you don't mean- the ears… But that's _impossible_, they've been extinct for _centuries!_"

Lucius just smiled, shaking his head lightly. "I'm afraid not Draco, we are very much alive." Noticing that Harry had no idea what they were on about, he said; "Long ago, my however-many-greats-grandmother had the honor of being chosen as the mate of a High Elf."

"High elves?" Harry asked, puzzled. "You mean like house-elves?"

"No my Prince." Lucius chuckled, ignoring the befuddled looks he got for the title of address. "High Elves are much more regal creatures. They look like humans, only more beautiful and with pointed ears." Seeing Harry stare in shock at his now pointed ears, Lucius nodded and said; "Yes my Prince, I am an Elf. So was my father, and his father before him." And, looking over at Draco; "And so is my son." He said, a soft smile on his face.

"But Father!" Draco protested, "I just went through my inheritance, and look, I don't see any pointy ears!" He exclaimed, lifting his hair to show gently curved ears.

Lucius simply nodded, smile firmly in place. "You would not my son. Elves go through their own inheritance on their 18th birthday, not their 17th. That means this December, you will go through a second inheritance; your Elven one this time."

"Excuse me Lucius," Harry put in nervously, "But how can you be an elf if that High Elf entered into your family so long ago?"

"A good question," Lucius remarked, "I forgot that you did not grow up in the wizarding world. When it comes to magical creatures," he explained, "if they marry a human, their descendants are always half-blooded creature, even one hundred years later. There is some strange property in their blood that makes it that way; we do not understand it. As for myself, despite being a half-blood, our family still has all the attributes of a full-blooded elf."

"Why is that father?" Draco asked curiously, still trying to get over the shock of the fact that he, his father, his grandfather, etc., were High Elves, a magical race thought extinct for over a hundred years.

"That is part of the story." Lucius said, leaning back into his seat. "When my long ago ancestor was chosen as a High Elf's mate, it was a time of discord in the Elven world. We did not have a ruling family, instead, there was a Council. All the families of the high-court, meaning all the ancient Elven families, came together to form a governing body. But they could not agree. Many conflicts broke out, before the fighting spread across the whole of the Elven kingdom. The Elf in our family was Baelyr of the Kennyrrae. His name meant Guardian Bringer. Because of his name, many said that he would do great things, that he heralded change. They were disillusioned when all he did was live out his life with his mate and his daughter. They did not realize that his name meant more than they had ever dreamed."

"For, on the night of his bonding with his mate, Mother came to them, to bless their union with a great gift, and a great burden."

"Hold on a minute." Draco put it. "Who is 'Mother'."

Lucius looked to Harry to explain, saying; "I believe it is you who should explain my Prince. After all, she is your Mother above all."

Harry smiled beatifically at the reminder. "Mother is nature, magic, the air, the sky, and the sea. She is all around us, she is everything. Both sides of earth, both sides of magic; light and dark, peace and chaos." His voice was enchanted, filled with excitement. "Many call her Mother Nature, others know her as the goddess. To me, she is simply Mother, _my_Mother, as I am her Childe."

Draco blinked slowly, an awed expression on his face, attempting to absorb all of this information.

Harry turned to Lucius. "What was this 'gift and burden' thing She gave your ancestors?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

Lucius nodded, getting back to his tale. "The night of Baelyr and his mate's bonding, Mother told them that their line had a great destiny and asked if they accepted it. She warned them that it came with a cost, but in the end, was well worth it. After some thought, they agreed."

"Mother then explained that their blood were to become her guardians. Throughout time, they would search for the one who would bring peace to not just our world, but magic itself. To the elves, Mother is not just our Mother, she is our Queen. And She told our Ancestors that we were to find our Prince, Her Childe. They were to be his guardian, his protector. Yet it did come with a price. Each generation, there would only be a single son of their line. And there would only be one Prince, and were we not able to find him, our world would forever fall into darkness.

So our Ancestors left the Elven world to search for our Mother's Childe, and we have been searching ever since. Unfortunately, our birthright was not always faithfully passed down." Lucius' face darkened, a thunderous expression on his face. "200 years ago, an ancestor defied our Queen's will, turning to the dark. He tarnished our name, changing it from Kennyrrae, meaning Sworn to Light, to Malfoy. He turned our family away from our Mother, and failed to pass on our quest. Had I not found Baelyr's journal buried deep in our vault, we would've been forever lost."

Here Lucius looked up, a wide smile on his face. "At the time, I had just turned from the Dark Lord, after Narcissa- … Narcissa was murdered. I had thought that it was already too late, that our Prince had already come and gone, and we were doomed to the dark. Even after you saved us," he addressed Harry, "I was still skeptical, though there was still a chance that all had not been lost. Still, I never thought in all my dreams that it was finally time, that our Prince was finally here." He reached a hand out again, as if to pull Harry into a hug, then dropped it. "And yet here you are.


	6. Chapter 5

**A.N.;to skyinthenightslove (and anyone else who's wondering)- heh heh, yeah, I just like Sevvie-pooh with really dark blue eyes, so I decided to take a little bit of artistic liberty with that and change em. I know it's not correct, but I didn't think it was too major.**

**Chapter 5**

Previously; "_And yet here you are."_

Lucius smiled benignly at the two thoroughly stunned young men in front of him, eyes clouded in confusion. One, his Prince, the boy whom he had worked for a significant part of his life to kill, sat frozen with an expression of fearful disbelief on his sun-bronzed face. The other, his only child and son, merely looked astonished, sitting on the couch next to his surrogate brother with his mouth slightly open in shock.

"In order to aid our family in our search, and despite being only half-blooded elves, Mother gave us the gift of looking like and having all the attributes of a full blooded High Elf." Lucius grinned, "Or blood did not change; we are still half-human, but without our glamour, we have the looks of the elves."

Draco shook his head quickly as if to clear it, and stood up, saying; "Father, you're telling me that you and I, and the rest of our family, are half _High Elf_, a highly powerful magical race that has though to have been extinct for _over 300 years? _That on my birthday this December I'm going to turn into one of these elves? That our family has been searching for Mother Nature's Childe since practically the beginning of time, and that _my little brother_, is not only that child, _your Prince, _but also a mutant?" His voice grew more and more disbelieving with every word he spoke.

Lucius simply nodded serenely, smiling as if all was right in the world.

Draco sat back down with a thump, shaking his head lightly from side to side. He ran a shaking hand through fine white-blonde hair, closing his molten silver eyes in consternation. "And you were planning on telling me all this _when?"_ He asked incredulously, pinching the bridge of his nose between slender fingers.

"Well, originally I was going to tell you over the Christmas holidays during the week before your birthday. I had been attempting to come to grips with the revelation that our family is actually predominantly **light**, not dark, for some time after the battle, and I didn't want to overwhelm you with too much new information at the time." Here Lucius chuckled lightly. "I did not expect to find our Prince so suddenly after learning of our heritage, and I had expected you to have much more time to acclimate to your new situation."

Draco just sighed, slumping back into his seat. Looking over at Harry, he noticed that the younger boy was shaking slightly, burying his face in his hands. "Harry?" Draco murmured cautiously. "Are you alright?"

Harry's only response was to tremble harder, shoulders shaking.

"My Prince?" Lucius hesitated, a concerned expression on his face. "What troubles you?"

Finally, Harry looked up. His sun-bronzed face was streaked with crystal tears, strands of black hair clinging to his tear-stained cheeks. His beautiful emerald eyes were shimmering, vivid green laced with flecks of gold. His pale pink lips moved slowly, whispering words too soft for anyone to hear. Gradually, they grew louder, and finally Draco and Lucius were able to make out the mumbled mantra.

"Won't I ever be normal?" Harry was crying, voice cracked.

Suddenly, all of his spirit animals, who until then had been sitting around the room calmly, converged on their sobbing Master. Dahna and Dominick, powerful chests rumbling with soothing purrs, curled sinuously around Harry's form, nudging their heads against his hands. The rest of the animals, still unnamed, lay or stood near him, attempting to comfort him with their presence.

When, even with the additions of his twelve animals, Harry's distress did not wane, soft music began to flow through the room, carried on the gentle breeze that swirled lightly through the Dursley's suburban home. The room was infused with a soft golden glow, and winds danced and sang with an ancient voice. Harry smiled softly at the familiar sound, basking in the soothing feelings that radiated from the soft words born on the dancing melody.

"_Childe… Kaen and I… have told you_… _You are special… and that is a __**good**__ thing…" _The voice insisted.

Harry gave a light grin, replying in a sheepish tone; "Yes my Mother."

Lucius gasped in shock, bowing his head reverently. "My Queen." He murmured, ignoring Draco's raised eyebrow at his deference. "Our people have not heard your voice since the time you named us your _Asar, _since the age of my ancestors. It is a joyous time to hear you again my Queen."

The wind, swirling with golden light, danced around the elder Malfoy's form. "_Lucius Malfoy… eldest of… the Kennyrrae… eldest of… my chosen Asar… my seekers…"_ Lucius nodded, a gentle smile on his face. "_You have found… my Childe… you have… fulfilled… the quest… I gave your line… nearly… 500 years ago..."_

"_But…you have… hurt my Childe… in the past… albeit unknowingly…" _The Mother's soft voice chided."_Because you were… influenced… I do not… blame you now…nor do I… blame young Draco… But…" _She admonished. "_If you… hurt him again…"_ She didn't finish the sentence, but the warning hanging in the air was obvious.

"Of course my Queen." Lucius murmured, bowing slightly from the waist. "I may have erred in the past, but I am an Asar, the Prince will be protected in my care… And of course," He smiled kindly towards Harry, "not only is he my Prince, but Harry has become like a son to me, and a brother to Draco. He is part of our family now, and after all, the pureblood motto is 'family first'." He finished jokingly.

"_Of course… Lucius… Now I believe… Young Dragon… has many… questions… I will… leave you to… answer them… Childe," _She reminded, "_remember; you… are special… and you have… a family who… loves you… Be happy… my heir…" _And her presence and music faded away.

For a few moments, all was silent. Then, Harry began giggling lightly at the absurdity of the situation, while Lucius turned to Draco, waiting for the inevitable flood of questions from his son. Surprisingly, Draco's face was calm and assured, and he asked only one rather rhetorical question.

"I'm assuming that was this 'Mother' character you spoke of?" The question hung in the air, needing no answer. "Well," Draco continued, leaning back with a satisfied look on his face, "I guess everything's alright then." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Draco?" Lucius questioned; a puzzled look on his face.

The younger Malfoy just smiled, saying; "Anyone that could calm Harry that quickly and makes him able to see that he **is** special is fine in my book." Harry blushed slightly at the praise, still chuckling under his breath. "And besides," Draco went on, "I could feel the power in her voice and in her music… It's like-" He paused, not knowing how to put it.

"It's like Her presence awoke something within you, something you've never felt before, and you just know that She is a friend." Harry finished, grinning as he remembered the first time he had heard Her voice and music. The gentle peace, the feeling of childish excitement.

Draco nodded, throwing an arm playfully over Harry's shoulders and teasing; "My little Harry, all grown up and becoming a Prince!" He sniffed, wiping a fake tear from his silver eyes. "They all grow up so fast!" He fake sobbed, burying his head in Harry's shoulder to hide his mirth.

Harry and Lucius didn't bother to hide their own glee, dissolving into almost hysterical laughter with Harry almost falling out of his seat. When his giggles had subsided a little, Harry said; "Leave it to Draco to take an extremely serious situation and turn it into a madhouse, pureblood pride or no." And the room disbanded into laughter once again.

After everyone had finally calmed down, Harry turned to Lucius and asked; "How many elves are there now, if everyone thinks they're extinct. And how would they know about me if your ancestors left the Elven world so long ago?" Draco nodded at that, turning to look questioningly at his Father.

Lucius hummed, stroking a hand through long –almost white– blonde hair. "Baelyr's journal said that Mother had told the elves of our quest after they left that world, so I'd assume they simply passed it down as a legend or a sort of prophecy."

Harry banged his head on the coffee table in front of him several times at that, and at the Malfoys' inquiring looks, simply groaned; "Too many prophecies."

Both Draco and Lucius chuckled, and the elder continued; "However, I am unaware as to how many elves there are in the kingdom. I do know that they are still alive, though I can't say how… simply a sort of feeling I suppose…" He shook his head. "My ancestor's records said that, when we had finally found the Prince, the elves would find us… It didn't specify as to _how_ they were going to find us, only that they would." He shrugged, turning to look back at the two younger boys.

"You two are taking this rather well." He remarked, looking at the pair's calm expressions. Draco merely said;

"I believe 'Mother' did something to adjust myself to the situation quickly, as I don't feel the slightest bit confused as to the whole matter. For some reason, it al makes perfect sense." He waved a hand, trying to explain the feeling.

The other two simply nodded, with Lucius remarking; "I felt something of the same myself after I had just read Baelyr's journal. At first, I had thought it was just a load of old nonsense, but then slowly everything began to make sense, and the glamour my father had placed over me dissipated, leaving the ears visible. Even then, I didn't feel the need to panic; it just all felt so natural. I believe it was Mother's way of adjusting the new _Asar, _or seekers, to their path." He cocked his head to the side, looking at Harry. "Why are **you** so calm?" He asked. "I'd figured you'd at least be a _little_ concerned, what with you becoming a Prince to most of the magical creatures in the world suddenly."

Harry yelped at that, saying; "All the magical creatures? I thought it was just the elves!"

But Lucius shook his head, explaining; "Most, if not all, of the creatures in the Wizarding world see Mother as their Queen. It was merely the elves' job to find you."

Harry shook his head despondently, a resigned air in his eyes. "Well, with all the crap I've been through before, this really isn't anything major. And besides, I have you guys, Kaen, Dahna and Dominick, and everyone else to help me through this." He gestured around the room at the Malfoys and his spirit animals, who had receded when they saw their master had calmed down.

"That reminds me!" Draco piped in, sitting up. "Why are all these animals here in the first place anyways?"

The animals laughed in their own way, making chuffing sounds of amusement. Harry grinned saying; "You know how Kaen said that Mother gave me a gift?" At the Malfoys' nod, he continued, "These are them. They're my spirit animals, and they're really the basis of my animalistic side. While Kaen is my feral, and is more bestial than I am and _can_ take over in order to fight, I get my animal characteristics from these and the rest of the animals in my mindscape."

"Dahna and Dominick, the panthers, are my core –or main– animal, and that's where I get the stripes and things." He said, gesturing to the revealed feline characteristics with a clawed hand. "I also have the ears and tail." He added, waving a hand to remove the glamour over them.

Draco laughed heartily –while Lucius simply smirked– at the flicking ears and tail suddenly apparent on his twin. He lightly scratched behind the pointed ears, grinning at the resounding purr that rumbled up from Harry's chest. "Aw, isn't he cute!" He teased, before freezing.

Harry whined as the hand that had been scratching his ears deliciously, before stopping at the look of astonished on Draco's pale face. "What's wrong?" He asked hesitantly.

"You- You just used wandless magic." He stuttered, staring in shock at Harry's confused face.

Harry just stared blankly at him. "I-… I did?"

Nodding his head slowly, Draco explained; "You waved your hand and the glamour –I'm assuming it was a glamour– over your ears and tail disappeared. Usually you would use a hand. Kaen used it earlier to take the first part off, but I didn't notice because I was too shocked over the whole alternate personality thing and all." Harry gaped, mouth open.

"But it takes an _extremely _powerful wizard to even do the simplest first year spells! How could I-." Harry stopped, shaking his head, then looked at Lucius questioningly, hoping he had some explanation for this.

The elder Malfoy smiled and said; "You are the Mother's Childe my Prince; as magic itself's heir, you would no longer need a focus to channel the magic through, which is what a wand is for. I'd assume magic seemed to come to you exceptionally easily even before your inheritance, now you just completely unlocked that skill. You probably won't even need a spell anymore; instead I would guess that you only need to will the magic to happen my Prince."

Harry nodded at that, but protested; "Lucius, _please _don't call me that! I'm just Harry!"

"Of course my- er, Harry." Lucius said, smiling at the slip. Harry nodded in satisfaction before cocking his head to the side inquisitively, prompting Draco to have the urge to "aww" at his cute appearance. With the ears and tail, combined with the rest of his previously revealed feline attributes, Harry looked the picture of a curious kitten.

"Lucius," Harry began, choosing his words carefully, "how did you know about mutants in the first place anyway?"

Lucius grinned. "Ah, that. I'm afraid that's Severus' fault."

* * *

Dr. Hank McCoy, blue fur and all, tumbled unceremoniously out of the fireplace, shouting "Minerva!" in a panicked voice. He and the other mutants at Xavier's school had been discussing the new and extremely powerful mutant when Professor X had mentioned that he had seen _scenery_ in the mutant's mind. Hank had immediately remembered a tidbit he had picked up during his readings when he had been a student at Hogwarts;

Only wizards had organized scenery such as forests or rooms in their minds. Others simply had black voids filled with floating boxes of memory; there was no scene, merely unorganized memories swirling about in a colorless abyss. Some, like Gambit, were able to construct traps to protect their mind, but they were still void of backgrounds.

You see, Henry McCoy had been a student at Hogwarts during his teenage years. However, after he had come into his mutant powers, he fled the wizarding world to the muggle world to study the medical field and genetics. Unfortunately, what with the International Statute of secrecy, he was unable to tell his new friends about his past as a magic user, despite the fact that he'd left. He kept no contact with the wizarding world except with one person; his cousin Minerva.

Minerva McGonagall had been the one to get Hank out when the already prejudiced wizarding society had turned on him for being a mutant. Even the muggleborn children who had been discriminated against for more than a century had scorned him for being different, even _before _he'd grown the blue fur. After Minerva had left Hogwarts to travel, the only other one to not hate him for what he had become was his sweetheart.

Silky black hair, dark blue eyes so deep they were almost black that sparkled with stars. His dry sense of humor and sarcastic wit always made Hank laugh. Yes, his beloved mate was special. He never judged Hank for what he was. But after the rest of Hogwarts had thrown him out, Hank had lost contact with his love. He'd searched, but once his bright blue fur had grown in, he'd given up. After all, who would want him now?

Still, he sent letters regularly to Minerva, just to keep in touch with at least one part of his family. She'd told him of her becoming a teacher at their old school, and of the first war.

He'd been worried a few years ago when she told him that the issues over Pureblood supremacy had finally come to a head –for the second time no less– but her next few letters had informed him that Harry Potter was twice-defeater of the dark Lord Voldemort. To be honest, he felt sorry for the boy; he'd never get a moment's peace now, what with the press hounding him his whole life.

He'd kept in contact with his cousin after the war, so when he realized that the new mutant was a wizard, he'd naturally come to Minerva.

"Yes?" The stern woman said, looking up from her marking. "Hank!" She exclaimed. "What are you doing here? You know wizards don't-"

"Yes, yes I know!" Hank interrupted, stumbling to his feet from where he had fallen on the rug in front of the fireplace (placed there for that express purpose). "But we've got a problem."

Minerva ushered the blue furred mutant to the chair in front of her large oak desk, asking worriedly; "What's wrong? Did something happen at that school of yours?" The Doctor sighed, slumping down into his chair and running a large hand over his face.

"You could say that." He muttered, then settled down to explain. "Cerebro, the device we use to find new mutants after their inheritance, found one this morning. The Professor entered their mind to see if he could find out more about them, but was thrown out. But before he was, Xavier saw something."

He stared seriously up at his cousin. "Minerva, he saw trees. The new mutant is a wizard."

McGonagall gasped, a hand over her mouth. "A wizard? Oh but we have to find the poor dear, our world is incredibly harsh, even after the war, to those who are different. Where are they?"

"We don't know." Hank sighed. "They disappeared from Cerebro after the Professor was thrown out. And since mutants can come into their inheritance almost a year after their birthday, we don't even know if they're still at Hogwarts."

Minerva shook her head sadly, then stood up, nodding determinedly. "Come." She gestured to Hank. "We've got someone to visit. He's had experience with finding people that are hard to get, and he already knows a lot about mutants…" she paused, a finger on her chin. "I never did ask _how _he knows… hmmm… Ah well." She grabbed Hank, pulling him over to the fireplace. Throwing a handful into the fire, she yelled, "Spinner's End!" and pushed him through.

Hank tumbled out of the fireplace for the second time that day, then stood, brushing off his suit jacket. "Stupid woman." He muttered under his breath. Finally, he looked up, and gasped.

"Severus?"

Hank gaped in disbelief at the slim man standing in the doorway. Long black hair washed of the oils he used to keep Potions residue out, and deep blue-black eyes topped a slim frame cloaked in black. "S-Sev?" Hank stuttered, hand frozen from where he had been brushing his suit jacket free of dust.

Severus Snape –Hogwarts professor called the 'greasy git', Youngest ever Potions master and well known spy for the light during the first and second wars– stood in the doorway to his living room, gaping at the man that had just tumbled out of his fireplace. His whole body was covered in bright blue fur, with tufted ears, a twitching tail, and clawed hands. Finally, Severus' eyes reached the man's eyes, and he gasped at the familiar swirling gold. His voice was soft, incredulous; "Hank? Is that you?"

Both men were frozen, gawking mutely at each other. They were both in the process of opening and closing their mouths without ever saying a thing when Minerva stepped dignifiedly out of the crackling fireplace.

The stern woman looked upon the scene with consternation; her cousin and friend stood in the middle of said friend's living room staring at each other, mouths wide, as if they'd just seen a ghost, though, seeing as Hogwarts itself was infested with a number of the spectral beings, that was probably not the most fitting analogy for the situation. Rather, they were staring at the other as if they had just seen Voldemort resurrected and dancing down the street in a pink tutu singing Broadway songs from the 70s. Both faces were filled with shock, a kind of hopeful disbelief, and another, softer emotion that Minerva couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Severus? Hank? What's wrong?" She asked hesitantly, looking from one to the other. The two men didn't even seem to hear her, simply continuing their staring contest.

Finally, Severus moved, gravitating almost unconsciously towards the frozen blue-furred character that had completely captivated his attention. Slowly, the Hogwarts Professor raised a pale hand, lifting it to the other's cheek, mere inches away. His fingertips trembled lightly, but his gaze never wavered. Bit by bit, Severus's hand closed in on Hank's cheek, before finally coming to rest gently on the blue fur covering it.

Severus breathed a shaky sigh, dropping his mask as he closed his eyes, assuring himself that the other really was there. Trembling, he lifted his eyes, gleaming with unshed tears, to meet the others. Looking up into Hanks face he smiled shakily, not even noticing the fur covering the other's features. "Hank." He croaked, voice breaking.

The cyan colored mutant cautiously raised his heavily muscled arms, wrapping them gently around the thin man's waist. "S-Sev." He stuttered, turning his head away in shame. "I-…" He stopped, not knowing what to say.

"Why did you leave me?" Severus asked, gazing searchingly up into the Doctor's face. "I- I thought…"

"Oh, Sev." Beast sighed, stroking the smaller man's back with a large hand. "I didn't want to leave you, don't ever think that. I searched, I tried to find you but then I- I didn't want you to see me like this." He bowed his head, closing his vibrant golden eyes as crystal drops formed at the corners. "I couldn't bear for you to- to be afraid of me, in this form I'm so different. Such a _freak_." He sobbed slightly, voice cracked.

Severus just stepped closer, snuggling into the other man's chest. "How could you think that I would leave you for something like this? Hank, you know me; I never cared that you were a mutant, and I sure as hell don't care now!" He nuzzled his face comfortingly into Beast's neck. "So you're covered in blue fur and put on a little muscle, who cares? Hank, _Beast, _I love you, and that's never going to change." He confessed, closing his eyes in expectation of the rebuttal that was sure to come.

But the mutant holding him merely tightened his arms, pulling the Potions Master fully into his embrace as large tears leaked from his large golden eyes. Hank buried his face in the other's hair as Severus nuzzled his neck comfortingly, relaxing into the familiar chest. "I love you, my mate." Hank whispered haltingly into a pale ear, voice filled with hope and affection.

The two stood there, wrapped in each other's arms for the first time in years, for some time, simply basking in the other's presence.

But alas, all good things (including mushy and sweet reunions between two lovers) must come to an end. Minerva, whom the two lovebirds had forgotten, finally decided to speak up, voice filled with confusion as she watched her cousin and long time friend act as if they had known each other for years.

"Um, if you don't mind, what's going on?"

* * *

Professor Xavier and the rest of the elder mutants present in his study watched in shock as their doctor and friend stepped into a raging fire, colored _green _of all things, and disappeared. Everyone sat/stood frozen in shock for several minutes before raucous laughter broke the silence permeating the oak paneled room.

Everyone turned to the still chuckling Gambit, staring at him in consternation. The flirty Cajun had one arm around Rouge, the other holding his stomach as he broke down into giggles. Slowly, he calmed down, raising a rough hand to wipe a tear from red-rimmed eyes. He looked into the faces all turned towards him, raising a questioning eyebrow at the confused look on their faces.

"Wha' did Remy do _mes Amis?_" He asked, grinning at the astonished look on their faces. Then, grimacing, he lifted a hand to rub the back of his head where Rouge had hit him. "Now why ya do dat _cher?"_ He smiled at her reprimanding look, pulling a playing card from somewhere within his coat and spinning it about his fingers. "It was jus' da look on ya faces when Beastie wen' through." He chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

"Ya wanna know wha' Beastie did, yes?" Gambit rubbed a hand over his chin. He hummed lightly, then said; "I don' know much 'bout it, jus' somethin' I saw durin' ma' time in New 'Awlins. T'was a funny lookin' ickle one in some sorta robe, did th' same thing Beastie did, 'cept he had some sorta stick in his hand. Waved it 'round all funny like, 'n he did somma da ting's I seen in the Voodoo shops. Looked like he had a mutant power, but not like any Remy's seen bafore." He finished, slouching down next to Rouge. "Don' know wha' it was, but I seen a few othas like it, wavin' dose sticks round an' round, an' sayin' funny words when dey do it."

He shrugged noncommittally, looking around the room at the others who had contemplative looks on their faces.

Professor Xavier especially had a pensive glint in his eyes, stroking his chin as he thought. "I wonder…" He murmured, staring out the window but seeing nothing…

* * *

Minerva stared at her cousin and old friend, seated in an armchair across from where the two sat -still entwined- on a couch across from her. As far as she'd known, the two had never even seen each other before, but here they were acting as if they were long time lovers just reunited after a long time separation (surprisingly, not too far from the truth). She raised an eyebrow calmly, a puzzled expression on her face, and asked; "Would either of you like to explain what's going on?"

Hank just buried his face in Severus' long black hair. He'd just gotten his love back; he didn't want to pay attention to anyone but him for a _long_ time. The potions master smiled, reaching a hand up to stroke the Doctor's fur covered cheek. Looking back to Minerva, he explained; "I met Hank in 5th year, after he'd became a mutant. I knew what he was, and that the others didn't like him, but I didn't care. We started out as good friends and, gradually, drew closer until we were in an, erm, rather _close_ relationship."

He sighed heavily, leaning back into Beasts' well-muscled chest. "The others didn't like me much for it, but I didn't care. We were happy, and in love. Even as the ridicule became worse and worse, we were still together. Then-… Then he was thrown out of Hogwarts, just for being _different_." Severus snarled, lip curling in his characteristic sneer. "And I never heard from him again." He turned to look at Hank, gazing up into the swirling golden eyes.

The doctor smiled, and explained to Minerva; "After I was thrown out in 7th year, I searched inconspicuously, trying to find my love. Even after I went to college to get a muggle education, I still attempted to find Severus. Then, the other changes came. The fur, the tail, the claws… I didn't think he would love me if he saw me like this, and it had been so long… I was sure he had moved on, forgotten about me. So I stopped searching. Eventually, I came to Xavier's, and he gave me a home, a future. Still, I never forgot you Sev. I have a picture of us on my desk back at the school, of that one time at the lake." Both of them smiled softly, lost in memories as Hank cupped a large hand around the other man's angular face.

Minerva smiled to herself as she watched the pair interact, glad that two of her closest friends had found companionship in each other. They had both been through so much; they deserved a little happiness in their lives. She sighed inwardly, allowing herself a moment to secretly wish that _she_ would find her match one of these days, before shaking the though off, berating herself for hopeless wishes.

Finally, she decided to break the silence. "Congratulations both of you… Oh, and Cousin." She paused, getting up and walking over to stand beside him. Then, suddenly, she wacked him over the head.

"Minervaaaaa!" Beast whined, grimacing and ignoring his cousin's giggles at the ungainly sight. The large, intimidating man was actually _whining_?

"Oh shush you!" Minerva said in her sternest voice. "That was for not telling me you were in love with one of my _best friends_!" She reprimanded, shaking her head at him like she would an errant student. Then, she reached out a hand to slap him around the head again, pretending not to hear his protests. "And that was for thinking he wouldn't care!"

"Now," She began primly, sitting neatly back down in her chair with a dignified air, "tell Severus what you told me. Maybe he can help…" She nodded emphatically, then added to herself, "At least I know why he knows about mutants now!"

Hank sighed, finally lifting his head from Severus' hair. Turning the other man to face him, he explained; "We found a new mutant this morning, using a device called Cerebro. It locates mutants who have just come into their powers, and allows Professor Xavier, who is a telepath, to access their minds to find out who and where they are, as well as their power levels and usually what kind of power they have. However, when the Professor entered _this _mutant's mind, he was thrown out, and rather violently."

Severus gasped, thinking of Occlumency. Beast nodded, and added; "And that's not all. Before he was thrown out, Xavier saw a glimpse of trees. There was _scenery _in their mind."

The potions master stuttered, a shocked look on his face. "A- A wizard?"

Minerva and Hank nodded solemnly, faces set in grim masks. "And we don't know who it is, or how old they are. They could be anywhere between 17 to 18 years of age, they might not even still be in school! As for _where _they are, all we know is that they're somewhere in England." Hank finished bleakly.

Severus grimaced, burying his face in his hands for a moment. Then, he looked up, jaw set and determined. "I'll look around this year, and see if I can find anyone with the signs, but if they're not in school-…" He didn't finished, but the meaning was clear.

Minerva and Hank just nodded, and Hank stood, pulling the other man up with him. "Well." The Doctor said, shoving his hands in his pockets carefully to avoid tearing them. "I suppose I'd best be getting back to the school… I kinda left in a hurry, and this is gonna be hard to explain." He stated sheepishly, brow furrowed.

"Oh, Hank." Minerva groaned, putting a hand to her forehead. "You used the floo system?" When the man nodded she shook her head morosely. "The Statute of Secrecy doesn't apply here, since they _technically_ aren't muggles, so I suppose you'll just have to tell them. Besides, I don't think a simple _Obliviate_ will work on them anyhow." She shrugged, turning to the fireplace. "I'd best be getting back to Hogwarts before the Headmaster notices I'm missing. Meddling old coot." She mumbled before stepping into the fireplace and disappearing.

Beast sighed, turning to Severus. "I don't suppose you'd like to come with me?" He asked hesitantly, not looking at the other's face.

The potions master just smirked, gesturing towards the fireplace. "And miss seeing where you've been living, as well as you having to explain the entire wizarding world?" He scoffed. "Besides, I've just found you again, and I'm sure as hell not letting you go now! Lead on, my love."

Hank smiled, dropping a gentle kiss on Severus' cheeks. "As you wish."

* * *

Xavier and the rest of the mutants occupying his office were still mulling over what Gambit had said when the fireplace roared to life, glowing the vibrant green it had when Beast had stepped through and disappeared. Everyone started, staring hesitantly and a little bit fearfully towards the emerald flames, waiting…

Then, two people tumbled unceremoniously out of the luminescent blaze, landing in a heap on the ornate wool rug laid in front of the marble paved fireplace. The pair untangled themselves with no small amount of trouble and stood up, brushing the soot from their clothes.

One the room's occupants recognized with some relief, blue fur and all. The other was unfamiliar. Tall, slender frame cloaked in black, long black hair, and blue-black eyes, he gazed around the room with a contemplative air, before turning to Beast. "I approve." His voice was soft, deep and silky, flowing like water.

Shaking himself out of his shock, Xavier finally managed the words; "Hello again Hank. Who might this be?"

The blue-furred mutant smiled gently, resting a hand on the smaller man's shoulder. "Sorry about that Professor." The strange man snickered lightly. "No, not you Sev!" Beast protested. "I meant him!" He gestured with a large hand towards the stately older man.

"I know, I know." The dark man soothed, still smirking. "Hello Professor Xavier." He addressed, bowing slightly from the waist. "My name is Severus Snape, I'm here because I want to watch this lug here," He pointed at Hank, "stutter through his explanation of what he just did. That and I haven't seen Hank in a long while…" He finished, letting the last sentence fade off.

"That doesn't explain much." Scott put in, looking at the potions master suspiciously through ruby sunglasses.

Severus just smirked, staring back at him unfazed. "No, it doesn't, now does it?" He scoffed.

"Now Scott," Professor Xavier soothed, looking curiously at his long-time friend and said friend's companion. "We'll get to Mr. Snape in a moment, I'm sure that he is included in Hank's explanation.

"How about that, bub?" Logan growled, crossing his arms and leaning against the oak paneled walls. "We'd sure like ta hear that." He gestured at Gambit, who had slipped sunglasses over his unnervingly red-rimmed eyes, saying, "The Cajun here said he'd seen somethin' like it before." The others in the room nodded, and Hank turned to Remy, a questioning eyebrow raised.

"What did you see?" The doctor asked.

Gambit shrugged casually. "Nuttin' much _mes amis. _Jus' a man dressed like yer friend 'ere, wavin' a stick 'round an' mumblin' funny soundin' words as 'e did it. Stepped inta da fire like ya did, an' *poof!*, 'e was gone." He said, wrapping an arm about Rouge's waist.

Hank and Severus nodded, recognizing a wizard using the floo system. "Had to be one of us." Severus said to the larger man.

Beast nodded again, crossing his arms and leaning back as he prepared to explain. "What you saw was something called the floo system. We use it to get around."

"Who's this _we?_" Wolverine asked, strait to the point as usual.

Hank sighed. "Well, you may find this hard to believe, but mutants aren't the only unusual society out there. In fact, there are a number of different races, but in this case, I'm speaking of only one; Wizards."

"Wizards?" Jean questioned, voice skeptical. "Like magic, pointy hats, wands, cat into a toad type wizards?" Scott, Wolverine and Rouge looked just as incredulous, while the Professor, Storm and Gambit just seemed mildly surprised.

Severus smirked, nodding serenely. "Not so much the pointy hats anymore, but otherwise, yes." He flicked his wrist quickly, and a slender piece of wood slid into his hand; his wand. "11 inches, Yew, Dragon Heartstring, excellent for defensive spell casting."

Beast followed his example, pulling his own wand from an inside pocket of his vest. "10 inches, Maple, and a Hair from the tail of a Unicorn. Very good for Charms. That always was my best subject." He remarked, eyes blank as he lost himself in memory.

"Unicorn? _Dragon?_ You guys have got to be kidding me." Scott blustered, forehead creased in a disapproving scowl. Professor Xavier shook his head, attempting to stop Cyclops, but the man just powered on. "Come on, put down the twigs and tell us what's really going on."

The potions master looked to his lover for a moment and, at the other's nod, turned to Scott. Flicking his wand quickly in Scott's direction and ignoring Wolverine's inevitable tensing at the threatening move, the startled mutant was suddenly pulled into the air by his ankle, then hung there with his head about 3 feet off the ground, mouth gaping in shock. The others in the room froze, before Wolverine and Gambit burst into laughter at the sight. Neither of them particularly liked Cyclops, both abhorring his sense of propriety and authority, so seeing the uptight man taken down a peg was always a welcome sight. Jean, however, looked horrified, a hand flitting to her mouth to cover her gasp of astonishment. She stared, frozen, at her upside-down fiancé hanging in the air, before standing and turning to the Potions Master behind her.

Said Potions Master was currently smirking secretly, dark eyes focused on the man he had just spelled into the air. He'd never particularly liked _Levicorpus_ after James Potter had used it on him in his 5th year, but it was always a good way to make people pay attention. He looked over at the irate red head facing him with a scowl on his face and sneered, "Yes?"

"Put him down this minute!" She demanded, but Severus just scoffed.

"Are you going to listen to what we have to say?" Hank questioned, looking around the room with a solemn face. "I promise you, we're not joking." Gesturing to Severus, "After all, he's not a mutant, yet he flipped Cyclops here into the air."

The Professor looked over at Logan and, eyes flashing gold, Wolverine sniffed the air lightly. He nodded, still chortling. "He's no mutant." He confirmed. "His scent's a lot different, not just human either." He shrugged, slumping back into the wall. "But anyone who can do that to one-eye there is fine in my book."

Gambit, still seated calmly next to Rouge who was observing the newcomer with a suspicious glint in her eye, piped up. His voice was excited, face full of interest. "Beastie, ya mean ya're like th' people down in da Voodoo shops? They did some o' dat stuff like you 'n your friend 'ere, what wif' the wand wavin' and all. But he didn' say no words when he flipped Scottie 'ere over."

Hank nodded, sitting down in a chair pushed against the wall near the fireplace. Severus moved to stand next to him, still keeping his wand trained on the upside-down man he'd spelled into the air. "Voodoo is a different branch of magic specific to that region, but yes, it's the same concept. Voodoo uses more physical objects such as tarot cards and talismans. Our type of magic originates from England, we use-" He cut himself off, shaking his head ruefully. "I shouldn't get into the technicalities of it."

He sighed, passing a large hand over his face. "Severus?" The other man looked down at him. "Why don't you release Scott so we can explain?"

The dark man nodded, flicking his wand opposite how he did before. This time, the room's occupants heard him mutter "_Liberacorpus" _before Scott tumbled to floor, landing in an ungainly heap and cursing under his breath. He turned back to the Professor, ignoring the rest of the mutants who were staring at him curiously and pretending not to hear Scott's indignant splutters, and asked; "I'd assume you'd like a longer explanation than 'we're wizards and do magic'?"

Professor Xavier ignored his sarcastic tone and nodded placidly. "That would be preferable." He confirmed, voice and face politely curious. Severus sat down, furrowing his eyebrows and looking over at Beast before beginning.

"Magic has been present on this world for many centuries, even before the time of Arthur." He nodded at their surprised looks. "Yes, Arthur is real, as well as Merlin."

"You mean to say that _Merlin,_ Arthur Camelot and the round table's Merlin, is _real?"_ Jean asked.

Hank sighed, growing more annoyed with her and Scott's skeptical comments every second. "Yes Jean, Merlin was real, as was Arthur and Excalibur. Can you please hold your comments until the end of our explanation?" He said through gritted teeth. At her nod, he continued. "For now, I'll leave out a lot of the specifics, and only explain the immediately relevant information.

"First, there are many types of magic, which I will not get into. The one Severus and I use originates from England, and almost always requires a wand as a focus. Now, every Wizard or Witch has a magical core, and they are able to channel that power through their wands, using Incantations and wand movements to control their magic and what it does."

"At the age of eleven, wizarding children go to school to learn spells and other techniques to learn and utilize their magic. There are several schools in various countries dedicated to teaching magic. The children themselves are either muggleborn, meaning their parents are not magical, mixed-blood, meaning they have some muggle blood in them, or pureblood, meaning their lineage is completely magical."

"About 50 years ago, a wizard named Tom Riddle began attempting a coup within the wizarding world. He was a dark wizard, meaning his magic was focused more on emotions, and began preaching that purebloods were better than others because of their so called 'clean blood'. He claimed that muggleborns, or _mudbloods_ as they called them, were inferior, and should be eradicated from their society, and eventually muggles in general." Hank nodded solemnly at their gasps. "Some wizards are, of course, more powerful than others, but this generally has nothing to do with their bloodline."

"Once out of school, Tom Riddle began going by the name of Lord Voldemort, and gathered followers that believed as he did, called Death Eaters. They began attacking muggleborns and non-magical humans, torturing or killing them without cause. Many wizards fought back, including their government the Ministry. But Voldemort continued to kill, and for a time, it seemed that the war would be lost." Hank finished, motioning for Severus to continue.

The darker man nodded, and began. "Then one night, Voldemort disappeared. He had gone to a small town to attack a family called the Potters; James, his wife Lily, and their year old son Harry. He murdered James and L- Lily with the death curse, which no one had ever survived. But when he turned to cast it on young Harry, something went wrong. The spell rebounded, and Voldemort's body was destroyed. Harry Potter was heralded as the boy-who-lived, our savior. Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and a very famous and well loved man took the boy, saying he'd left him in a safe place until it was time for him to attend Hogwarts."

"But Voldemort was not gone forever. He was still alive, a floating wraith with no body to inhabit. 10 years passed, with no sign of either Voldemort or Harry. Then, after a decade, Harry Potter stepped foot into the wizarding world again. Various mishaps and life-threatening situations happened yearly, but somehow he thwarted each one every time. Then, in his fourth year, Voldemort returned, resurrected by his followers using Harry's blood as a catalyst. The Dark Lord's campaign for the muggles' eradication began again, and everyone was relying on _a fourteen year-old boy_ to defeat the most powerful dark wizard since Merlin's time.

But somehow in his sixth year, during a raid on Hogwarts, Harry destroyed Voldemort again for the last time. No one actually knows how he did it, and he refuses to speak of that day to anyone." Severus ended, crossing his arms.

Everyone sat in silence for some time, before Professor Xavier looked up. "I must say that your explanation sounds completely unbelievable, but seeing as we ourselves are mutants, and seeing what you are capable of with that- I'm assuming your wand?- I find myself inclined to believe you." He ignored Scott and Jean's protests. "I'm assuming this 'Lord Voldemort' was the one responsible for the so-called terrorist attacks frequented over the past years."

Hank nodded. "The governments attempted to cover up all of Voldemort's attacks as terrorism since technically, wizards aren't allowed to tell non-magical humans about the wizarding world, so. But seeing as mutants aren't necessarily the same as humans, I decided it didn't apply in this case."

The Professor nodded as the rest of the room's occupants attempted to take all of that in, sitting or standing with contemplative looks on their faces. Well, except for Wolverine who was chewing on his cigar as usual, already haven taken in everything, accepting Hank's words as true and unconcerned about the ramifications. Gambit, too, seemed rather indifferent, already accustomed to unusual things from his time at New Orleans and the assorted Voodoo and black magic shops common to that area. 'Besides, is this really that different from what we can do?' He thought to himself, slouching back into his seat.

Rouge next to him echoed the thought aloud, leaning her head on Gambit's shoulder. "C'mon people, we're mutants here, is this all that different? Wizards just don't have powers specific to them." She shrugged impassively.

Ororo however looked horrified. "What kind of society relies on a _boy_ to defeat a rampaging psychopathic maniac bent on the destruction of an entire race?" Jean nodded mutely, a hand over her mouth. Neither woman had children, but living in a school full of young mutants had rubbed off on them.

Severus sighed, sitting down heavily next to Beast. "I'm afraid our society is not an easy one. When some of the students at Hogwarts found out that Beast here had become a mutant during his time there, they threw him out of the school, saying that mutants were as bad as werewolves; dangerous creatures and freaks."

"That's actually one of the reasons I left through the floo." Beast remarked. "You see Professor, when you saw trees in the new mutant's mind, I realized something. Now usually, people's minds are sort of like black voids, correct?"

Jean and Xavier, the two telepaths in the room, confirmed that. "Human minds resemble shadow filled vastness with various shaped boxes filled with thoughts and memories floating through them. Occasionally, people like Gambit learn to build mental traps to discourage telepaths from venturing in, but I've never hear of people having _trees_ in their mind."

"You wouldn't have." Beast assured. "That's because the only people with scenery in their mindscape… are wizards."


	7. Chapter 6

**A.N. Alrighty lovelies, next chapter's up! Once again, I'm sorry bout the wait, but since I'm tryin ta make the chapters longer it's gonna be more time in between updates. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. This is my first story, so I'm still tryin to figure everything out. It probably wasn't the best of ideas to make the story so complicated (there's like two story lines going on at once), and since I don't have a beta reader there's probably lotsa problems with it, but hey, I luv a challenge ;) Keep on keepin on!**

**Chapter 6**

Previously; _"The only ones with scenery in their mindscape… are wizards."_

The mutants situated about the room stared in shock at their blue furred friend, before Professor Xavier sighed wearily, rubbing his furrowed brow with a slightly shaking hand. "When you explained about wizards, I was afraid of that…" He stated seriously, mind racing.

Severus brought a hand up to run in through long black hair, asking "What's so special about this one mutant that has you so flustered? I understand the importance of getting them out of the wizarding world, what with those idiots' idealized bigotry, but past that…" He shrugged confusedly.

The Professor looked up, nodding distractedly at the question. "You are correct Mr. Snape, we would not normally be quite _this _concerned. Though we do profess a level of worry about all young mutants due to the usual rather malevolent reaction towards them, but this goes a bit beyond that. However, the particular young one in question is of- I'm assuming you know about power levels?" He trailed off, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

At Severus' nod, Scott cut in. "How do you know so much about mutants anyway?" He asked suspiciously, mouth turned down in a disapproving frown.

The Hogwarts Professor was unfazed, merely turning to the visored man with his trademark sneer firmly in place. "I don't quite see how that is any of _your_ business Mr.-" He trailed off, looking at the mutant expectantly.

"Summers." Scott ground out, teeth clenched.

"Well Mr. Summers," Snape scoffed, eyeing the other man distastefully, "though it really _isn't_ any concern of yours, I know about mutants because of Beast here." He gestured airily at Hank. "I knew him during his time at Hogwarts before everyone found out he was a mutant and threw him out. They claimed he didn't deserve to be there, thought he was a _freak_." He looked apologetically at his lover for the harsh words, receiving a gentle smile in return.

"And you didn't?" Scott probed, ignoring the disapproving looks he was getting from the Professor, Storm and Rouge.

Severus' sneer grew at the man's blatant attempts to get a rise out of him. He was a _Slytherin _for Merlin's sake, as if this moron's pathetic attempt at subtlety could even serve to make his mask of cool indifference _twitch_. "No Mr. Summers, I did not." He replied calmly, inwardly smirking at the affronted look on the other's face. "I never cared that Hank was a mutant, and before you have the impertinence to ask, I still do not." He finished, turning his attention back to the Professor who had a hint of an amused smile on his face. Wolverine didn't even try to hide his own smirk, and Gambit was chuckling softly behind his hand from his seat beside the grinning Rouge. "Now," Severus continued primly, a ghost of a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth, "if we can get back to the matter at hand?"

Xavier nodded, steepling his fingers on the desk in front of him. "As I said before, this new mutant is of the Omega class…" He hesitated for a moment, then went on, "or higher."

"Not only that," Storm added, grey eyes solemn, "he or she is also feral."

Slytherin and accomplished spy or no, Severus was unable to keep his mask from slipping into astonishment for a moment at that little tid-bit. "Or _higher? __**And **_a feral?" He breathed incredulously, blue-black eyes wide. The Potions Master knew all about mutant power levels and the various classified powers (including ferals), having researched it alongside Hank during the two's stint in Hogwarts. "Oh Merlin, if this is one of the children that sided with…" His words tapered off, soft voice filled with horror.

"I know." Hank groaned, sitting heavily in his sturdy oak chair. "That's another reason I went to Minerva; with her part in both the first and second wars she would know the complications…"

"Though a great deal of the dark families' children chose to side _against_ their parents in the last raid." Severus pointed out. "There are, of course, some that fought amongst the Dark Lord's ranks, but many did not. There may still be some hope in that area-"

The two were cut off by Wolverine's irritated growl, jumping at the reminder that they were not alone in the room. "Would you two like to explain what yer blabbin' about, or do we have to drag it outta ya?" The feral man demanded brown eyes bleeding into gold in his agitation. Whatever they were discussing, it didn't sound good, and the Wolverine didn't particularly like that. "Well?"

Hank sighed, while Severus nodded grimly. "I am sorry." The darker man said, once again running a hand through his hair and grimacing at the need for an apology. "I've been so deep in the politics and strategies of our war that I fall to far into the inter-workings of situations. Too much time spent as a spy." He mumbled wearily, closing his eyes tiredly.

But Scott, ever suspicious, picked up on that last line, jumping on it quickly. "A spy? What do you mean?" He prodded, gaining a glare from Hank and, surprisingly enough, Wolverine for his insensitivity. Normally the rough-and-tumble man had much the same range of sensitivity as a teaspoon. However, not having known his own past and considering that many of the things Creed said made him not _want_ to know, Logan understood that some people had sensitive pasts. He also understood that brining up said pasts was often not in _anyone's_ best interests, and as such it was best to simply _not do it._

But of course, Cyclops was ignoring most –if not all– common sense and courtesy and insisted on prodding into this man's past which was really none of his beeswax.

Accordingly, Severus gave the man his best and most malicious glare, upper lip curled in disgust. "Yes Mr. Summers, a _spy_." He spat, midnight eyes flinging fire in his barely constrained fury. He grinned malevolently as the other man flinched. "During the first time of the Dark Lord, I was fool enough to take his filthy mark upon my arm." Severus yanked the sleeve of his black rope violently up to his shoulder, exposing the skull and snake burnt into his arm.

"When I realized my mistake, I went to Dumbledore, _pleading_ for him to help me, to save my worthless hide from that maniacal psychopath I had thought worthy to call Lord. The man sent me right back into His hands, saying I should think it an honor to spy for the Light, for the Great Albus Dumbledore." He sneered, voice twisted with hate. "And like the sycophantic young zealot I was, I agreed. Agreed to kneel in front of that monster, mark upon my arm like a branded _cow._ Agreed to endure His torture curses without so much as a whimper, and _thank_ him for it when he was finally through. And _agreed_ that when all that was over I would crawl back to Dumbledore with a smile on my lips to report on everything I'd learned and receive a pat on my the head like a _dog._ So yes, boy, I was a spy, a betrayer, a _thief._ I've seen more than you can ever _dream._" He finished, ignoring the others staring at him in shock and horror. He didn't need their pity.

Scott stood up, brow furrowed and voice full of self-righteous indignation. "I'll have you know, _Sir_, that I've seen and been through a lot more than you'd think!" He sputtered loudly.

Everyone just watched the two men argue with various emotions clear on their faces. Hank seemed sorrowed; that his lover was forced to endure that suffering, that pain, alone. But when Severus turned to him briefly, hesitantly, he found no pity. No, instead he found a man that loved him, that mourned for him but thought no less of him for it. The Professor and Storm held worry for both Scott and the already cracked relations between the mutants and Severus who was, thus far, their only viable link to the Wizarding World.

Jean seemed torn between concern for Scott and anger at the man who –to her– was showing blatant disrespect for her fiancé. Rouge seemed vaguely amused, while Gambit and Wolverine were outright grinning. Both men had recognized the battle-hardened air Severus carried with him even talking with Hank; despite what Scottie the one-eyed wonder mutant said, this man knew what he was talking about.

"Oh _have _you now? Ickle one playing war games with the grown-ups now?" Severus taunted, cutting Scott off when he began to protest. "Don't even _try_. I know a seventeen year-old _boy_ who could best you any day. Don't think even for a moment that I can not." He finished, not even deigning to look at the other man. 'Though Harry is sort of a special case.' He remarked inwardly, before turning back to face Professor Xavier.

"Now, as I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted," Severus began, smirking at Scott, "Hank and myself were discussing the _complication_ should this new unknown mutant be one of the children that sided with the dark faction during the second war."

Here Jean (taking the place of Scott who appeared to be sulking) interrupted self-importantly. "Yes, yes, we understand that; light is good, dark is bad, so obviously we don't want them to be d- eep!" She squeaked in terror at the black glare Severus sent her way, unconsciously shrinking back into the couch she was seated on.

"No _Madam, _I'm afraid you do not understand if you believe that point-blank idiocy I just had the displeasure of hearing. While I understand that you do not know or comprehend our customs and way of life, I would prefer that you would not insist on spewing that idealized bigotry." Severus said quite calmly, tone that deceptively quiet tenor laced with venom he reserved for situations and/or persons that he loathed with all his being. Those that fell under this category usually consisted mostly of Gryffindors, _teaching_ said Gryffindors, and the biased speeches they uttered almost daily, but seeing as this _woman_ with no understanding of the situation felt the need to educate _him_, he found the harsh whisper appropriate.

Jean, acting remarkably like her still pouting fiancé, immediately began spluttering and blustering pompously. The Professor seemed to be preparing to take steps to placate matters when Gambit suddenly slid fluidly to his feet, removing his arm from about Rouge's waist and taking several soundless steps to place himself in front of the sputtering red-head. Leaning his face in close, the normally jovial Cajun's voice was hard and flinty as he spoke.

"Jeannie, ya bettah shuts ya mouth before ya gives him a bettah reason ta shuts it fo' ya." He held up a hand, waggling a finger reprovingly as both she and Scott began to protest. "Ah Ah, is best if ya don' do that _mes amis. _Now ya listen ta what 'e had ta say, an' ya wait 'till 'e's done 'till ya talk." He instructed, gliding back to his seat with a respectful nod at Snape.

The Potions Master returned the gesture gratefully. "Now as for the 'light is good, dark is bad' propaganda we had the _delight _of hearing today, that is not at all what I was attempting to relay. While I don't feel the need to instruct you on the inner workings of magic, neither light nor dark magics are food or evil, only the intent with which they're used." Severus explained, shifting into 'Professor' mode.

"While it is true that the majority of wizards that chose to side with the Dark Lord were, indeed, Dark, this does not inherently make the magic itself evil. However, because most people believe that light magic is good and dark is malevolent, it became popular to call the sides 'light' and 'dark' based on the affinity of the majority of wizards in the sect." He paused, looking around to confirm that all understood what he was saying 9which they all did except for Scott who was pretending to be either not caring or simply not listening.).

He sighed, satisfying himself for a moment with images of how he could express his extreme… displeasure with the man, before continuing with his lecture. "I, myself, am a wizard with an affinity for dark magic, but I did not side with the Dark Lord. In fact, a great deal of children form Dark aligned families, even children of known and notorious Death Eaters chose to fight _against_ their parents. They are mostly, if not all, proficient in dark magic, and yet they are no more evil than myself."

He frowned vexedly at Jean and Scott. "That is what I was _trying_ to tell you before. The majority of teenage wizards either remained neutral or fought against the Dark Lord, so it is highly unlikely that there will be problems in that area." He said, trying to be optimistic. "But if they are not…" The warning hung heavily in the silence that statement produced.

Professor Xavier sighed and straightened in his wheelchair, clearing his throat to gain their attention. Fixing Severus with a pointed stare, he asked; "Are we certain that this new mutant will be attending this 'Hogwarts' for the coming school year?"

"I'm afraid not Professor." Hank answered, speaking up for the first time since before Scott and Severus' argument. His blue furred, whip-like tail was twitching agitatedly, and his large frame was slumped dejectedly in his chair. "Hogwarts is up through seventh year, which is mostly made up of seventeen year-olds. There _is_ a fair spattering of eighteen year-olds…"

"And a number are coming back to retake classes that were interrupted due to the war or other such circumstances," Severus added, moving over to lean against the paneled wall next to his lover.

"So in all likelihood, they _will_ go to Hogwarts; in this case it's the best possibility." Hank finished, rubbing his neck wearily with a large hand.

Xavier nodded, brow furrowed in thought. "Then that is where we will focus our efforts. We _can not_ let the Brotherhood know of this new young one, lest they manage to turn them against the humans."

"If they don't already know…" Scott mumbled pessimistically, finally coming out of his childish sulk.

Storm gazed stoically at the fatalistic mutant, grey eyes calm and cool. "There is no reason to believe that they do Scott." She said unworriedly. "If the Professor was unable to find their location even with the help of Cerebro, Magneto with his mild telepathy will assuredly be unable to."

"I'd assume that we need to have someone, or _several_ someones from the team stationed at Hogwarts this year." Xavier instructed, mind already working through the complications. "They'll be able to recognize the signs of a mutant newly came into their powers, and perhaps help control any temperamental out-bursts… Can you think of any way that might be possible?" He directed at Snape, raising an eyebrow.

The Potions Master smirked secretly. "Of course. I'm a professor there after all." He quirked his mouth in a lopsided smile. "Even if I wasn't, Amelia has been requesting a new class, I'm sure you can find someone to fit the position."

"And this position _is?_" Logan growled, fed-up with all the tip-toeing around the subject.

"Ah, and you are?" Severus asked, eyeing the other man with a speculative eye.

"Logan. Don't ask the last name, I don't know it." Wolverine said brusquely. "A feral like our mystery mutant."

Snape nodded, a hand on his chin. "Well Mr. Logan, the class Amelia –our Minister by the way– has been pressing Dumbledore to have is a physical class, no magic. She wants the students to learn how to defend themselves if and/or when they lose their wands in a fight, and to learn how to dodge spells in the first place. Even with the students with a large repertoire of offensive and defensive magic, _very _few bother to keep themselves in shape, and even less know how to fight without magic."

Wolverine and Gambit snorted derisively. "Da same t'ing with lotsa mutants. Dey rely so much on dere powers dat dey don' know how ta fight wit' out em." Gambit stated, face set in a frown at the sheer idiocy of that tactic. Both men kept themselves in prime physical form, and practiced sparring for at least an hour a day (usually with each other).

"Perfect!" Xavier remarked, smiling broadly. "Remy and Logan here teach Phys. Ed. here at the school, they'd be perfect for the job." He said, gesturing to the two mutants. "That is, if you two don't mind?"

Both of them grinned. "Teach a bunch of babies how ta fight?" Logan grinned ferally. "My favorite."

Gambit nodded. "Always a pleasure ta teach the ickle ones how ta do hand ta hand." He looked down at Rouge who was leaning into the crook of his arm with a slightly disappointed look on her face. He brushed a lock of hair from over her eyes with a gloved hand, a soft smile on her face as he said, "s' long as I can take ma _cher_ wit' me," grinning broader at the happy gleam in her gentle brown eyes.

"Of course, of course," Xavier placated, smiling lightly with a pleased look in his eyes. "She can be your assistant, and do recon." He turned to Severus. "Will this be acceptable?"

The Hogwarts Professor nodded calmly, saying "I'm sure they'll be perfectly fine." He sighed, looking over his shoulder at the fireplace behind him. "I have to get back, I've got something brewing that needs to be attended to." He remarked regretfully, looking sadly at Hank. "Hank will brief you on what you need to know about our world, the rest can be discussed later on at Hogwarts." He turned to face Beast, raising a hand and resting it on his furred cheek.

"This isn't goodbye." Severus said, attempting to reassure both Hank _and _himself. "I'll be visiting regularly, and when all this is over…" He trailed off, letting his mask slip to show a slight smile.

The large mutant just smiled, nodding with a hint of wetness in large gold eyes.

"Professor, Everyone." Severus addressed, bowing slightly from the waist. "I'll be back to discuss everything after Amelia gives her approval." He said, turning to the roaring fireplace. Throwing a pinch of floo powder into the flames, they flashed green as he stepped in and twisted away.

* * *

Severus Snape strolled into the Ministry building, studiously the various witches and wizards staring at him in interest. After his role as a spy during both wars had become evident to the public, people became much more likely to stare rather than just ignore his presence, something that (in his opinion) was definitely _not_ a good thing. He was a man who enjoyed his privacy and his secrets, and keeping said privacy was definitely not aided by having various and sundry follow him wherever he went.

He scoffed inwardly at the fickle attentions of the public as he strode calmly towards the registry desk inside the large marble paved atrium. He sneered in disgust at the golden statue/fountain presiding over the center of the spacious room. A wizard, witch, centaur and house elf posed together, acting harmonious, with the centaur and house-elf obviously meant to be subservient to the magic users. 'As if', he thought. The centaurs were just as persecuted as the werewolves, and house-elves were just as powerful as wizards and witches, merely with a different style of magic.

Severus shook his head idly as he realized that he'd frozen in the middle of the entrance hall to stare reproachfully at the atrocious tribute to wizard kind's supposed supremacy. Pace determinedly away, he stepped up to the large oak desk in the corner of the room, staring down his long nose at the clerk scribbling away behind it. She was obviously either unaware of his presence, or pretending not to notice as she scratched quickly with a quill on a yellowed sheet of parchment filled with various lines of scrawled ink.

Fed up with waiting, the Potions Master cleared his throat noisily, smirking at the woman's surprised jump. She looked up, startled, before her face shifted into a primly professional expression. "Hello and welcome to the Ministry of Magic. If you'd please hand me your wand and sign your name on the sheet in front of you-" She began, nasal voice dull and monotone.

"Madam, if you'd kindly be quiet, I'm here to see the Minister." Severus interrupted impatiently; not wanting to endure several more minutes of the woman's oh so interesting speech (note the sarcasm).

She started, looking affronted, tilting her head back to look down her nose with a superior air at him. "And you are?" The clerk questioned pompously, giving the impression that she didn't _care_ who he was, he still had to sign the sheet and giver over his wand.

The Hogwarts Professor just sneered, upper lip curling in distaste. "Severus Snape, Professor of Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He informed her readily, smirking inwardly at the look of astonishment that took over her face.

"O- of course Sir, I'm so sorry for my rudeness." She simpered, fluttering her eyelashes. "The Minister is in her office right now, if you'd just follow me-" The clerk began, starting to rise from her seat to show the honored war hero the way.

But Severus just waved his hand dismissingly, sneering; "That won't be necessary, I know perfectly well the way to Amelia's office. If you'd let me through-?" He let his voice trail off, gesturing to the gate closing the doorway between the Atrium and the rest of the underground Ministry building. The clerk quickly pushed the button to lift the barrier, and Severus quickly passed through the doorway, disappearing into the maze of halls that made up the interior of that floor.

Walking quickly through the network of corridors, he finally came to an imposing carved oak door with a golden plaque mounted on the surface. Inscribed upon it in neat black letters were the words 'Minister of Magic.' Rapping once upon the hard wood, Severus pushed the door open, slipping inside the office.

* * *

Amelia Bones, the Minister of Magic elected after Voldemort's fall, sat at the large scroll covered desk, reading a rather lengthy looking piece of parchment with an exceptionally bored expression on her face, leaning her hear into her hand. She looked up hopefully as the door creaked open, grinning broadly as Severus slipped noiselessly inside. "Severus!" The woman exclaimed gleefully, almost cheering in relief. "You've no idea how glad I am to see you." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "These reports are going to drive me mad, _mad _I tell you! I have no idea how that idiot Fudge dealt with all of them!"

"Hello Amelia." Severus replied, sitting down calmly in one of the chairs in front of the desk, a slight smirk on his lips. "Settling in well are we?"

The former auror just snorted derisively, leaning back in her large black leather chair. "Sure, sure, whatever you say. What brings you here, eh?" Madam Bones questioned, waving a hand in his direction.

He chuckled lightly, leaning back and resting his chin on a hand. "Well, you know that class you've been pushing for in Hogwarts?" Severus asked lightly, smiling inwardly at the obvious change of topic.

Amelia perked up at the mention of the physical education class she'd been attempting to add into the Hogwarts curriculum. "Yes! Most of the children, hell, most of the _adults_ wouldn't know how to defend themselves without a wand if their lives depended on it, which half the time it does! In fact, they don't even know how to defend themselves _with_ a wand, let alone dodge spells flying at them!" She sighed, rubbing a hand over her forehead. "I know the war's over and all, but with all the Death Eaters still running amok out there and me in a position to finally _change _something, that class is one of the first things that should be added in!" She slammed her hand palm down on the desk in front of her, making the scrolls and quills scattered about its surface jump and rattle around. Blowing out a long gust of air, the newly elected Minister slowly calmed down before turning to face Severus. "Why?"

"Well, I have some good news." Severus stated coolly, lips quirked upwards in a ghost of a smile. "I found two teachers who can teach how to fight completely without magic, all hand to hand combat." He thought back for a moment, remembering the metal bo-staff he'd seen leaning against the wall next to Gambit. "And a few weapons as well."

Madam Bones' face lit up at that, eyes alight with excitement and curiosity. "Really?" Then her face twisted into a worried mask, and she hesitantly said; "They're not muggles are they? You know that I'd never pull the class through if I was required to break the Statute of Secrecy for it, the Wizengamot would never allow it!"

The Potions Master just smirked confidently. '_Technically, we're not breaking the Statute.'_ He snickered to himself. '_They aren't even technically __humans__, and even if they were they're not the same as muggles._' "No Amelia," He reassured, "they're not muggles. Far from it in fact." '_That's not lying. I just didn't say they were wizards.'_ He congratulated himself inwardly for the nice save.

Amelia slumped into her chair, a relieved expression on her face. "Good," she said, grinning widely. "I'll petition the Wizengamot tomorrow and attempt to push it through. I'm sure our friend will be happy to help." She winked mischievously. "After all, he's one of the few that bothered to learn how to defend himself. Then again, he had good reason to…" She trailed off, thinking.

In her mind's eye, she pictured a slight, black haired boy, slim frame toned with lithe muscle. He was standing completely still in the center of a stone-walled room, eyes closed, face peaceful. He looked to be almost asleep, body relaxed and waiting. Then, with no warning at all, he suddenly lunged forward, ducking into a roll before sliding smoothly to his feet again. A jet of bright red light flew through the spot his chest had just been moments before. Another stream of energy, this time sickly green, shot at him from behind. Without turning to look, he spun to the side, dancing gracefully across the room as he dodged an assortment of colored lights and sharply pointed projectiles shooting through the large room.

Not a single one connected. Every time a bolt seemed close to hitting him, the boy just skipped or dodged lightly out of the way, feet working nimbly across the marble floors. An arrow burst out from a hole ingrained in the wall beside him, but a slender hand plucked it out of the air from right beside his shoulder.

All of this was done without ever opening a single eye.

Amelia sighed, mourning the loss of innocence in brilliant emerald green eyes, before the glaze over her own faded and she looked back to Severus. "I'll send someone to him, you know Remus and Sirius have been dying to see their godson again."

"Yes," Severus sneered, though it had no real malice in it, "the mutt has been annoying me almost daily with requests." He stood up, bowing slightly from the waist. "I would be much obliged if you'd get the class in, I've always felt the dunderheads could benefit from having some sense beaten into them, and the teachers I found are some… friends of mine."

"Oh?" Madam Bones, said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I'll see what I can do; after all, I've been trying to get Dumbledore to agree to this class since I was elected! Well, goodbye Severus, I'll owl you when I find out."

The Potions Master bowed again, then straightened and turned for the door. "Goodbye Amelia."

* * *

"Well…" Harry sighed, slumping down in his seat next to Draco and lifting his face to look inquisitively at Lucius. "What do we do now?"

Draco turned to his father as well, just as confused as Harry, if not more. After all, the younger boy had a great deal of experience dealing with unexpected an unexplainable things (too much experience if you ask me), and was likely taking this a great deal better. After all, Draco had been raised to think that his family was **dark**, _not light_. And now his father had informed him that he was _half High Elf, _a powerful race of magical creature thought to be extinct, and said race was actually not extinct and had a _Prince_, who was in fact his surrogate little brother!

The blonde elf looked just as confused as the two of them, stroking his chin with one pale hand. "For the moment, I say we wait." He finally advised, face puzzled. "We do not know how the Elves will find or contact us, so there is really nothing we can do. The most I can do is teach you two the customs of the elves so that you will be prepared, but beyond that…"

Harry and Draco nodded, still attempting to take in everything they'd learned. "Well, I say we've been dwelling on all this long enough." Draco stated, standing up with a determined air. "You're relatives apparently aren't bothering you, so I say we head to Diagon Alley to pick up your things for school. After all, we can discuss all this serious stuff later; it's time to have some fun!" He exclaimed, grabbing Harry's wrist and dragging him up off the couch. Dancing him around the room, Draco laughed; "Come on lazybones, you can mull over everything later, and you have Father and I to help you." He paused, a contemplative look on his face, then grinned again. "And you can't forget Kaen!"

Harry giggled lightly, pulling away from his twin to drop himself on Lucius' lap. Staring up at the blonde man with big green eyes, he pleaded; "Uncle Luc, _pleeeease_ can we go? I've been stuck with the Dursleys _all summer!"_

Lucius grimaced knowingly, fake scowling down at the boy in his lap with a tender light in his eyes. "You little imp, you know I can't deny that look! Alright boys, we'll go."


	8. Chapter 7

**A.N. Woo hoo, 100 reviews! Thank you! Anyways, 'Ello again pets! How we doin'? Not too much longer till we get to the part you've all **_**really**_** been waiting for, Harry and Wolvie's first meeting! But it don't stop there lovelies, you'll be getting much more than that by the time I'm through with ya! Here's the next chappie, so Enjoy! **

**Chapter 7**

Previously; _"Alright boys, we'll go."_

Draco and Lucius watched in obvious amusement as Harry danced about, face filled with childish glee. They both knew that the young man had never really gotten to have a child-hood, and were glad to see the usually stoic boy acting, for once, like the adolescent he should have been. It was times like these when they remembered that the boy-who-lived, savior of the Wizarding World and defeater of Voldemort was really only 17 years old. So rarely did he ever act like the young man he would have been… Seeing him this way, the slight black-haired young mutant flitting excitedly through the Leaky Cauldron, the Malfoys and the rest of the patrons were filled with a mix of shock and laughter as their savior darted to and fro amongst the rough wooden tables. Harry's lightly-golden toned face glowed as peals of mirth rang like bells throughout the enclosed space.

Unexpectedly, an answering laugh came from a table beside the entrance to Diagon Alley, the rough, bark like sound making Harry's head whip around. "Siri! Remy!" The teen crowed enthusiastically, grabbing Draco's wrist and dragging him excitedly over to where his two god-fathers sat, the elder Malfoy following behind more placidly. Harry eagerly threw himself into his dogfather's arms, giggling carelessly as the ex-convict tickled his sides playfully. The man passed Harry over to Remus -not noticing the werewolf's eyes flashing gold- who hugged him a little more gently and said;

"Hello cub, we didn't expect to see you here," Remus' voice was soft as he looked down at Harry with glowing amber eyes. He'd felt the wolf rise up suddenly when he'd first seen Harry dancing about, but he fought it down as he took his cub in his arms. Both men looked much better than they had during the past years; Sirius finally free after Wormtail had been captured, and Remus finally receiving some proper care and Wolfsbane during his transformations (which Severus kindly provided for him, free of charge). "Hello Draco, Lucius." Remus added with a respectful nod.

Harry just chuckled. "Draco 'n me got Uncle Luc to bring us to the Alley so we could get our school stuff!" He informed them merrily, sitting happily in his substitute god-father's lap. Remus wasn't _officially_ his god-father, but he was as good as one to Harry, and after he and Sirius had finally gotten married the title was just added on by association.

"Yes." The older blonde drawled, leaning against the wall after giving the slightly dirt-coated chairs a disgusted look. "The little brat decided to use the kicked-puppy look on me. How could I say no to that?" Lucius almost whimpered. _Almost. _After all, Malfoys _don't. whimper._

Sirius and Remus chuckled and smiled knowingly. "Oh, we know that look, don't we pup?" Sirius accused, poking the still giggling Harry in the arm teasingly. Draco, who had plopped unceremoniously into a chair beside them, patted Harry on the head jokingly and taunted;

"You mean the Look that makes even Madam_ Pomfrey _let him out of the infirmary early when he's there every other day of the week? The Look that makes Professor McGonagall allow him to call her Aunt _Minnie?_ And the Look that he used on Uncle Sev so that he could call him _Sevvie?" _The blonde snorted at that, remembering the look on the esteemed Potions Master's face when Harry had first dubbed him with his new name.

Harry pouted sullenly, crossing his arms with an indignant huff. "Remmmyyy!" He whined, turning around to gaze at the werewolf with the exact same look they had just been discussing on his face. "They're being mean to me!" With his large green eyes sparkling, mouth turned down in an adorable pout and face turned up imploringly; he was the picture of endearing innocence. The unfortunate man on the receiving end of said innocence fought valiantly for a moment, before giving in.

"Alright cub, I'll make them stop." Remus soothed, turning to his husband with a disapproving look on his face. Bringing a hand up he wacked the still chuckling Sirius upside the head, nodding contently when the man yelped.

Rubbing the back of his skull sheepishly, Sirius gestured with the other hand. "See?" The ex-convict groaned, wincing at his sore scalp. "One little look and- Ow! What was that one for?" Sirius complained, pouting childishly at Remus and once again rubbing his head in pain.

The werewolf just smirked and informed him calmly; "Because I felt like it," with a teasing smirk. Turning back to look at Harry, he asked, "Better cub?"

Lucius and Draco chuckled at Harry's satisfied nod, the elder of the two Malfoys sending Remus a smirk at not being the only one to suffer from that Look in Harry's brilliant emerald eyes. Tapping the back of the black-haired boy's head lightly, Draco teased; "You're just a bundle of trouble, aren't you little Pr- Harry." Harry, Draco and Lucius all winced at the slip, before Harry gave an unassuming smile, pretending not to notice.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Harry sniffed, sticking his nose upwards with a pompous air.

Everyone just laughed lightly, fixing the seventh year with knowing stares. "_Sure_ ya don't pup." Sirius snorted, flicking the boy on his sharp upturned nose. "You _never _get into messes at school, there was only the evil Dark Lord stuck to the back of your teacher's head, the basilisk, the mass-murderer out for your blood…" He trailed off, waving his hand suggestively.

"Anyway, I'm glad we ran into you today." Sirius continued, crossing his arms with a more serious look on his face. "Me n' Remus got a call from Amelia a few days ago." He informed Harry and the two Malfoys, gesturing from his husband to himself.

Harry and Draco had puzzled looks on their faces, while Lucius asked, "Madam Bones? The new Minister? What did she want?" Why would the new Minister of Magic call on a former auror and a werewolf? Understandably she knew them during the first and second wars, but as far as Lucius knew the former head of the auror department had never been particularly close with either of the two men.

"Actually, it wasn't us she wanted to talk to." Sirius informed them, quirking an eyebrow at their confused expressions. "She just wanted Remus and me to relay the message on… to you Harry." The ex-convict waved a hand in his godson's direction. "You wouldn't happen to know _why, _would you pup?"

The green-eyed young man blushed under the others' questioning gazes, dropping his eyes to the dust-strewn floor. "Well…" He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand sheepishly. "Amelia and I _might_ have been corresponding regarding a few changes we both feel should be put into affect in both Hogwarts and the wizarding world… Susan introduced her to me after she was elected at the end of the year after-… and she asked me if I had any suggestions as to what needed to be changed. We talked and agreed on several aspects of the Wizarding World that should be repaired or altered, and we've been sending letters back and forth ever since. She's got a good perspective, and she's really nice…" He finished, studiously ignoring the shocked gazes fixed on him by the others around the table.

Then, Lucius and Draco burst out laughing, the three Gryffindors staring at them in consternation. Both blondes just laughed harder at the trio's puzzlement until Lucius finally calmed down enough to explain. "Only you, Harry, would somehow manage to get the Minister of Magic in your back pocket through a _simple conversation_! During my time with the Dark Lord it took _years_ to get that idiot Fudge to fully trust me, along with numerous occasions of acting like a sycophantic idiot, and all it takes for you is a few words!" He snorted at the disbelieving look on Harry's face.

"You don't realize what effect you have on people do you m- Harry? You could get anyone to like you; Severus, Minerva… Hell, if given enough time and the chance you probably would've convinced the _Death Eaters _to your side!" Lucius stated impassionedly. The young wizard really had no idea the influence he had over people; a simple conversation, a few words, or just a glimpse of Harry when he was being himself and a person's heart just completely melted. Everyone he'd met, everyone he saved couldn't help but love the young man.

Harry just shook his head in denial.

Draco sighed, resting his head on his hand dejectedly. "It's no use trying to make him see sense Father; he's too stubborn to believe it." Sirius and Remus nodded in agreement, having tried innumerous times to convince their godson of how special he was, but to no avail. Harry just would not believe that he was worth anything to anyone except as a weapon.

Harry harrumphed, whacking Draco on the arm in retaliation for the 'stubborn' comment. "So what did Amelia want you to tell me anyway?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

Lucius gave him a look that clearly read 'this isn't over', before Sirius responded. "She told me to tell you that; Knight found them, a pair with weapons and all." The grim-animagus stated with a confused look on his face at the cryptic message. "Amelia said that you'd know what it meant." Everyone turned to Harry with expectant looks on their faces.

The black-haired boy's face split into a full-blown grin, white teeth glistening in the light. "Yes!" He shouted, throwing a fist in the air triumphantly. Harry jumped off of Remus' lap with a world-less shout, throwing himself into a victory dance. "Finally, finally, _finally!_ I can't believe he actually managed to find someone to do it!" He laughed exultantly as he eventually calmed down, plopping himself happily back into his god-father's lap, completely oblivious to the confused and slightly concerned looks the others around the table were sending his way. When Harry finally noticed, he blushed, then asked; "What?"

Shaking his head mutely, Draco just snickered, while Lucius and Remus raised their eyebrows questioningly. Finally, Sirius spoke up to query hesitantly, "Pup, what was that about? What did the Minister mean, and who is this 'Knight' person anyways?"

Harry coughed sheepishly, ducking his head with an apologetic look on his face. "S- Sorry. It's just, me and Amelia… er, Amelia and _I_ have been discussing a class we think would benefit Hogwarts a great deal. Apparently she's been attempting to push it through, but we could never find teacher(s) for the job that didn't involve breaking the secrecy agreement." He explained, shrugging.

"And what class would that be?" Lucius questioned, mind puzzling over what the two could have come up with that the young mutant felt so strongly about.

Said young mutant grinned ferally at that, the glamour over his bestial fangs slipping to show slightly longer and sharper canines that glinted stridently. His eyelids fell to half-mast over his vibrant green eyes in pleasure, and his tenor voice was low and soothing as he practically purred a single word; "_Fighting."_ Slowly, practically identical smirks spread across Draco and Lucius' faces, accompanied by low chuckles, while Sirius and Remus barked out canine laughs. Each of them had seen Harry's prowess in fighting, and had been the victims of his rants regarding the uselessness of the general wizarding populace in regards to fighting without their wands, and usually even _with _them.

"And you, or rather Amelia, actually got the senile old coot to _agree_ with this?" Lucius asked in disbelief, causing a sly smile to slip over Harry's face, though he provided no answer. Albus Dumbledore was well known for disallowing any classes that taught the students what he termed as 'senseless violence'. Apparently, there was 'no need for the children to learn how to fight; the war is for adults, not for the children.'

Of course, the harsh realities that during the war children were attacked regularly and that the war would decide their fate later in life were disregarded, as well as the fact that Harry himself—a fifteen year old boy no less—was expected by the majority of the wizarding population to _end _the war in favor of the light. If the war was not for children, what, then, was Harry? Was he not to be protected and shielded, just as every other child? Was he even a child in their eyes at all?

Lucius sighed at the reminder that his surrogate son, and newly found Prince, seemed to have no rights above simply those of a weapon in the eyes of the Headmaster, his order, and the general public. '_No matter.'_ He thought, hardening his resolve once again. '_Even if my people do not demand retribution for the mistreatment of their Prince, our Queen most assuredly will.'_ Nodding mentally, he turned back to Harry, repeating his question in a firmer voice and with a stern look on his face. "You got _Dumbledore, _Mr. No-fighting-even-under-extreme-circumstances-_ever_, to agree?"

"Come on pup!" Sirius demanded, prodding the boy insistently with a finger, accompanied by Draco and Remus' agreeing nods.

Finally, the beleaguered Harry gave in, chuckling lightly and still practically purring with satisfaction (something he had not thought to include in the glamour's cover). "No, we didn't get the Headmaster to agree." He denied with a smile in his voice at his companions' confused looks. "Rather, he didn't have a _choice."_

"Quit stalling ya prat, just tell us already!" Draco complained, whining in a distinctly un-Malfoy like fashion. He attempted to replicate Harry's kicked-puppy look to use on his surrogate twin, merely succeeding in achieving an undignified snort.

"Fine, fine." Harry huffed, crossing his arms with a pout. "Over the summer, after my talk with Amelia, I began trying to think up ways to get the class, once we found the proper teachers of course, even if ol' Dumbles didn't go along with it (which we knew he wouldn't). So, I decided to embrace my more Slytherin side, _literally_." He said with another broad grin.

Sirius nudged him again, ignoring the rather obscure ending and asking impatiently; "_And?"_

Shaking his head at his godfather's childishness, Harry relented and informed them, "In the time of the four founders, when Hogwarts was first established and built, they wrote something called the Hogwarts charter. In the charter were rules and regulations they set for the management of the school." He pulled a folded piece of parchment from it's place in a satchel at his hip. "This is a page copied from the book I found it in. There's a lot of old-fashioned gibberish in here that I couldn't understand, but basically it lists a few rules that cannot be changed and are therefore still in effect."

"'_To those concerned;"_ he read off, voice filled with sly happiness, "_let it be known that Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry is to accept all students, regardless of class, power, or blood purity_.' After that are their established policies, including several subsections."

"Under, the section marked; _Curriculum and Courses of Study, _it reads; '_Hogwarts is a school of learning, required to teach all accepted courses deemed appropriate by the Headmaster and/or the Board of Governors_.'"

"Now as we know," Harry went on, "the Board of Governors was disbanded by the Headmaster against their will—illegally I might add—during the second war as 'they were no longer needed in that capacity at the time'. Illegally as it takes a majority vote by said Board, the Headmaster, the staff, and a fourth party that has to meet certain requirements. However, there is a third way to get a class added into the school that does _not_ require the Headmaster's approval." Harry's grin widened to unbelievable proportions, "Once again quoting from the charter; '_However, if a course is felt appropriate but the Headmaster and Board denies the request, the class may be established by a majority vote of the governing body of the Wizengamot—excepting all concerned parties such as the Headmaster or members of the board—as well as…_'" He paused, voice full of vindictive and accomplished glee. "'_As well as one or more of our established heirs.'"_

Lucius and Draco slowly started forming small smirks, their Slytherin tendencies allowing them to understand the situation faster than the Gryffindor aligned minds of Sirius and Remus. "And with the Minister pushing the Wizengamot to agree _without_ the old codger's interference…" Lucius reasoned, voice tinted with malicious amusement and a hint of pride, "it will be easy to convince them to go along with the course!"

"But what about the heir?" Sirius questioned, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "As far as I know, no one has claimed the right since V-… _He_ accepted Slytherin's legacy."

But Remus shook his head, saying; "Actually, he was never fully established as Slytherin's heir, seeing as that vault in Gringotts is still frozen and has for almost 200 years. Apparently the last line was unable to access the vault for unknown reasons. So Riddle could claim to be of the bloodline, but must have never undergone the inheritance ritual to be recognized as the official successor." Harry nodded along, ignoring the looks from Sirius, Lucius and Draco clearly asking how either of them knew all of that.

"So what then?" Draco asked expectantly.

Harry chuckled idly, shaking his head lightly from side to side. "Well, as you know well know Remus, Sirius, the Potters have long been suspected of being of Godric's blood-"

"But Harry!" Sirius protested, grasping his arm in a strong hand. "You can't afford to publicly oppose the Headmaster, not yet!"

"And I'm not!" Harry cut in, placing a hand over Sirius' mouth to halt his protective ranting. "Though I will be accepting the Potter Lordship, and thus the status as Gryffindor's heir, I will _not_ be using that position to contest Bumbles." He denied solemnly, playful demeanor dropping to show a more serious side. "However, we do have another option."

Sirius, Remus, Lucius and Draco each thought for a moment, all coming up blank. Lucius quirked a sardonic eyebrow, shaking his head lightly in bemusement and drawling, "I give up Mr. Potter. Why don't you save your mutt of a godfather here the trouble of attempting to think of an answer and just provide us with it?" Sirius nodded along before blinking slowly and barking out an indignant 'Hey!'

"It really took you _that _long?" Remus inquired incredulously over Draco and Harry's sniggers, gold-flecked eyes that crinkled at the corners alight with mirth. Ignoring Sirius protests, he asked, "Well, cub?"

"Well…" Harry hedged, biting his lip hesitantly. "When I went to Gringotts after the end of sixth year, the goblins informed me that I had a new inheritance to accept." He sighed, closing his eyes balefully with a despondent expression. "Obviously, I had no idea what they were talking about as I was only the legal successor of the Potter, and thus, Gryffindor line. However, they showed me a clause in someone's last will and testament that proclaimed me their heir should they die."

He pulled out a second piece of paper from the satchel, a thick piece of parchment covered in neat, emerald green ink.

Harry read the missive out loud. _"In the circumstance of my death, my possessions, properties, and Lordship shall be passed on to one Harold James Potter, currently 16 years of age at the time this document was made, under the stipulation that it was he who managed to eventually kill me._

**Signed; **_Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Slytherin"_

"_Riddle _m- made you his _heir?_" Harry's godfathers exclaimed, almost simultaneously. They sat there gaping, mouths and eyes wide in astonishment, while Lucius and Draco merely seemed mildly confused.

"Who is this Riddle fellow?" Lucius inquired, stroking his chin idly with a contemplative look on his face. "He claims to be Lord Slytherin, so he must be descended from the Gaunts… But as far as I know they died out quite a while ago… And why would you be the one to kill whoever this is anyway?" He asked, fixing Harry with his swirling silver eyes.

The three Gryffindors stared mutely at him and Draco in shock before realizing that the two blondes had never learned of Voldemort's real name and identity. Shaking his head lightly, Harry explained; "Tom Riddle was the son of Merope Gaunt, Marvolo Gaunt's daughter, and Tom Riddle Sr., an aristocratic muggle from the area. He went to Hogwarts and was accepted into Slytherin house despite being a half-blood, though he did have rather fanatical pureblooded views. Once he graduated, he began preaching _about_ said views, gaining a great deal of attention and eventually changed his name to…" He paused, biting his lip and looking away, unable to say it.

"He changed his name to Lord Voldemort." Remus finished, noticing his god-son's hesitation.

"Voldemort?" Lucius squawked, eyebrows flying upwards into his hairline. "_Voldemort_ made you his heir?" Draco was just as startled, opening and closing his mouth several times.

Sirius tsked lightly, shaking his head with a cheeky smirk on his face despite the seriousness of the situation. "Tsk tsk Harry," He chided, waving his finger with a reprimanding air in front of the teen's face. "You broke Draco!"

Chuckling at his godfather's antics, Harry brushed him off, turning to the pair of stunned blonde aristocrats. "Yes, he made me his benefactor should I manage to kill him for good this time. The will he wrote explains that, in his mind, if I actually managed to best him then I was the one 'most worthy' to carry on the Slytherin line, even if it meant naming his worst enemy as his successor." Harry shrugged nonchalantly, having come to terms with his nemesis' decision after first hearing it. "Which means that I am the last heir to both the Gryffindor and Slytherin Lordships, both of which apply to the situation."

"However," Harry continued, fixing the men around the table one by one with serious green eyes. "Since I cannot publicly go against the Headmaster now, seeing as his power base is too strong, I can't use the Gryffindor Lordship to push a fighting class through the Wizengamot. But Dumbledork is unaware that I was made Lord Slytherin, something which I plan to use to my advantage."

Draco began smirking slyly, mercury eyes alight with mischief. "An unknown figure with Slytherin's ring, claiming to be Lord Slytherin which no one but the Dark Lord has claimed for over 200 years. The Wizengamot will _have_ to agree, or risk offending a potentially _very_ powerful man both politically and economically. And Dumbles will be forced to add the class into the curriculum or risk overstepping his boundaries!" Lucius smirked as well, Remus and Sirius smiling wryly at their companions' furtive natures.

"Alright little Snakes, we'll leave you to your plotting." Remus stated, smiling softly at his godson. "You'd best be heading off to Gringotts before the Alley gets too crowded."

"Yes, thank you Remus." Lucius nodded at the werewolf, pulling a time-piece from an inner pocket of his light grey robe. He gently prodded Harry's shoulder, reminding; "Remember Pr- Harry, we came here to get you and Draco's things for school. We'd best be going before the crowds get too large later in the day."

"Yes Uncle Luc!" The bright-eyed boy exclaimed, serious air dropping off like an autumn leaf in the wind. Hopping up and placing a kiss on Remus and Sirius' cheeks, he said, "Bye Siri, bye Remy!" He smiled once, broadly, before grabbing Draco's wrist and once again dragging him across the pub, waving over his shoulder as they went. Lucius chuckled fondly at his surrogate son's antics, nodding regally to Sirius and Remus before sweeping after the two boys.

* * *

"It's hard to believe he's only seventeen sometimes, isn't it Remus?" Sirius reminisced, turning to his counterpart with a warm expression. "Remy?" He asked, looking concernedly at the werewolf who had his head between his knees, breathing deeply. "What's wron-" The dog animagus froze as Remus looked up, face panicked below bright amber eyes. "m-Moony?" Sirius hedged cautiously.

Slowly, the swirling gold began to fade, replaced by Remus' warm brown. The panicked expression, however, did not dissipate as his eyes darted to and fro about the pub, breaths harsh and rattling. "S-.. Sorry." The werewolf croaked, sitting up carefully. "Moony just decided to… to take over when we saw Harry leave. I –I don't know why, but, he- he felt _different_ somehow."

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, dark blue eyes full of anxious concern for his husband.

Sighing gustily, Remus replied, "Normally the wolf is so _violent._ He's angry, protective… but this time, he was- he was _peaceful, __happy_ even. Moony came out and just… looked! He watched Harry leave sort of… contentedly almost." He shook his head, looking at Sirius with a confused light in his tawny eyes. "Sirius, wha- what happened?"

"I don't know Remy…" Sirius answered truthfully, staring at the doorway Harry had passed through contemplatively. "I don't know."

* * *

Lucius, Harry and Draco stepped gratefully inside the cool interior of Gringotts, appreciative of the relief from the hot summer's air. The gold and black patterned tile reflected the flickering lights hung from golden chandeliers high on the ceiling, the quiet transactions between wizards and goblins a welcome contrast to the loud hustle and bustle of the Alley outside. The two Malfoys gazed about calmly, noting the patrons currently inside the spacious room, before striding quickly after Harry who bounded excitedly over to one of the high desks, behind which a familiar Goblin sat.

"Hello Griphook!" Harry exclaimed, grinning up at the slight figure looking confusedly down at him.

"Greetings Mr. Potter." The Goblin replied, cocking his bulbous head to the side. "Have we met before?"

"Of course!" The black haired teen stated, raising an eyebrow. "You were the first goblin I ever met, you brought me and Hagrid down to my vault in first year!" Griphook, Lucius and Draco all looked at him with stunned expressions, the goblin's eyes particularly wide in disbelief. "What?" Harry questioned, voice full of innocent curiosity.

Suddenly, the Goblin grinned, shark-like teeth providing for a rather terrifying expression. "I must say, Mr. Potter," Griphook began, a rare expression of approval on his sharp face, "it is not very often that we find a wizard who bothers to learn a goblin's name, let alone _remember _after so many years." He nodded respectfully down at the young man before continuing, "What can I do for you today young Master Potter?"

The two Malfoys raised their eyebrows skeptically at the deferential title of address, while Harry went on obliviously. "I need to take the inheritance test." Harry informed the grinning goblin.

"Of course." Griphook agreed, nodding once again. "You turned 17 years of age last night did you not?" At Harry's confirmation the goblin 'hmmed', hopping down off his stool and walking around to the other side of the desk. "Follow me then." Griphook stated, beckoning to the two blondes and Harry. Striding quickly through the slightly crowded bank, he led them down a narrow hallway, stopping at a large oak door inscribed with several runes. Rapping twice, he waited for a moment before pushing the heavy portal open upon the gruff '_Enter'_.

Another Goblin, dressed in tidily pressed robes, sat behind a large metal desk, looking over several forms. His creased face was stern as he looked up over golden-framed spectacles, hairless eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Managing Director Ragnok, Mr. Potter is here to undergo his inheritance ritual." Griphook reported primly, gesturing to the slight, green-eyed teen flanked by the two blondes. "Lord Malfoy and young Mr. Malfoy are here as witnesses."

"Very well." Ragnok stated, waving the other goblin out of the room. When Griphook's slight form had slipped out the door he waited for a moment, before smiling toothily down at Harry. "Hello again Harry, finally coming out from the Headmaster's thumb, eh?" Draco and Lucius balked at the familiar tone, looking quickly over at Harry who was grinning broadly.

Winking at his confused companions, Harry replied; "That I am Ragnok, finally an adult and out of his control."

"Good, good." The Managing director responded, nodding with a satisfied expression.

Lucius cleared his throat noisily to gain their attention, raising a sardonic eyebrow when the goblin and teen turned to him. "If you don't mind me asking Director Ragnok, how do you know my Pr- Harry?" He questioned, twitching at the slip.

The Goblin grinned, looking down at Harry with a fond light in his beetle-black eyes. "On one particular day I was working in this very office, attempting to settle an extremely arduous dispute between two customers who both insisted a particular item belonged to their families. I had just begun the rather tiring paperwork when someone suddenly stumbled into my office without knocking." Ragnok shook his head wryly. "Who could it be but Mr. Potter here? When I asked him why he was in my workplace, he explained that he'd 'gotten lost'. Eventually I managed to persuade him to tell the truth, and he informed me that he was hiding from the Headmaster's Order who were following him throughout the alley. Never having particularly liked the old man, I allowed him to stay, and we began talking."

"Young Master Potter is unlike any other wizard I have met." Ragnok informed Lucius, noting his and Draco's accompanying nods. "He did not treat myself or any of my employees like inferiors, but rather was very deferential and respectful. After Harry explained his dilemmas with the Headmaster, my counterpart Director Snarltooth and I decided that the young Master would have a room here where he could rest and meet his acquaintances away from the prying eyes of the Headmaster or the Dark Lord's spies." He finished.

Lucius began chuckling, realizing that yet another unsuspecting individual had fallen victim to Harry's charismatic nature. Beside him, Draco began banging his head on the table at which he sat before reaching out with a pale hand to smack the blushing Harry on the back of his head. "Ya coulda told us ya Prat!" The younger blonde exclaimed, frowning at his black-haired friend.

"Now where's the fun in that?" Harry taunted, sticking his tongue out childishly.

"Yes, well…" Ragnok said, shaking his head at the boys' antics. "Harry, if you'd hold out your right hand we'll begin the inheritance ritual." Taking the teen's hand in his own, he pulled a jeweled silver dagger from a drawer beside him, making a precise cut in the tip of Harry's pointer finger with a practiced air. Dripping a few crimson beads of blood onto a piece of yellowed parchment, he waved a hand over the small wound, muttering a few words as the cut closed.

Pushing the parchment towards Harry he explained; "Though we already know your inheritances, this is protocol. Look over it and sign at the bottom if you will." Upon the paper, written in scrolling red were two lines of ink.

_Lord Potter/Gryffindor- _through parents James Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans.

_Lord Slytherin- _through the legal will of Tom Marvolo Riddle, former heir of Slytherin.

Nodding satisfactorily, Harry picked up the quill, signing the bottom of the page with a flourish. Taking back the paper Ragnok reached behind him, plucking an intricately carved wooden box from a shelf behind him. Placing it on the table in front of Harry, Ragnok instructed, "Place your hand on the lid, the proper rings will be summoned from your vaults." Doing so, there was a flash of white light, leaving spots dancing across Harry and the Malfoys' eyes. When they cleared, the mahogany box lay open on the desk in front of them, two rings of gold and silver lay within.

The first, a thick golden band, held the Gryffindor crest etched on a crimson ruby. Lined with gold leaf, the lion rampant gleamed in the gentle glow of the lanterns. The second was simpler, an intricately carved silver serpent held a sphere of emerald within its jaws, tail just touching the other side.

Harry smiled softly down at the familiar crests so often displayed in Hogwarts, the only place he'd ever really called home. Reaching gingerly into the container, he plucked the rings out of their holdings, resting them in the palm of his hand before looking questioningly up at Ragnok. The Goblin smiled again and explained; "As your Lordships are both of the same class, both are required to be worn on your ring-fingers. Which ring on which side depends on your personal preference." Harry nodded, sliding the Gryffindor ring onto his right ring finger.

A bright red glow encompassed him for a few moments, swirling with flecks of golden light. When it faded away, Harry was revealed, slightly changed. Dark auburn highlights streaked through his hair, flashing red in the light. His eyes, brilliant green flecked with gold, glowed with power for a few seconds before it was shuttered away. Sliding the Slytherin ring into place onto his left ring finger, another glow spread across his body, this time a vivid emerald streaked with silver. When this too faded, Harry's eyes glowed once again, but this time the flames of power did not die out, but danced wildly within the emerald globes. A lock of hair, this time tinted with green, hung down over his eyes, swaying gently in a breeze only he could feel. His cheekbones became more angular, face aristocratic yet still soft.

Altogether, Harry was a deceptively delicate figure. His slim frame was petite because of his malnourishment at the hands of the Dursleys, and his limbs seemed very thin. With long, wavy hair and a gently defined face, Harry appeared very fragile. But the young man was anything but. Quick, agile, and toned with lithe muscle, he used his attackers' larger frames against them, dancing about like a wraith.

Lucius, Draco, Ragnok and Harry all sat in mutual stillness for a few moments, registering the changes. Then…"Darn it." Harry's tenor voice broke the silence, face creased in a pout. "I'm still short!"

Ragnok croaked out a harsh laugh, accompanied by Lucius and Draco's fond chuckles. "Poor ickle Harry." Draco taunted, grinning broadly, dodging the teen's retorting fist.

"There is something different about you though young Lord." The Director observed, voice contemplative and face full of curiosity.

"Well I did just go through my heir-ships." Harry pointed out, head cocked to the side.

But the Goblin shook his head, black eyes sweeping thoughtfully over Harry, trying to locate the difference. Finally he sighed slowly and close his eyes, feeling out with his magic. "By the Goblin Lords." Ragnok breathed, voice filled with awe as his eyes flew open. Conjuring a ball of goblin magic to hover above his hand, the Director of Gringotts spoke rapidly into it in Gobbledygook, eyes flicking to Harry and away repeatedly. Clenching his hand into a fist to snuff out the magic, he hurriedly lifted himself to his feet before bowing deeply at the waist. "Ragnok, wha-" Harry began, looking confusedly towards Lucius and Draco for assistance, before spinning around in his seat as the door slammed open.

A harried looking female goblin stood in the entrance, dressed in pressed grey robes. Striding quickly through, she stepped up beside the still bowing Ragnok and copied his position, long noses practically brushing the floor. Both pulling out of the bows at the same time, they spokes in unison.

"Greetings from the Goblin Nation Childe of the Mother. Long ago you were promised, and long after you now come. Let it be known that the brotherhood between our brothers the elves and the goblin nation still holds strong despite the disappearance of our brethren centuries ago." Not waiting for the stunned Harry to reply, they turned to Lucius and Draco. "Elves of the Kennyrrae, chosen Asar, we welcome you again into the treaty. When you once again rejoin the Elven world, give greetings to our brothers from our nation, and remember that the elves have always had a friend in the goblins." They bowed once again, before Ragnok regained his seat and gave Harry a wry smile.

"It would be you young Harry. You have never had a normal life, have you child?" The female goblin turned to Ragnok with a horrified expression on her face.

"Ragnok!" She exclaimed, raising a gnarled hand to rap him reprimandingly on the head. "You should not speak to the Young Master in such a way!"

Attempting to stave off chuckles at the way his Goblin friend was treated, Harry reassured her, "It's quite alright Ma'am, Ragnok is a friend of mine and I insisted that he was not required to treat me as his superior. As my elder, and more powerful and intelligent than I, I didn't find it right."

She looked at him with a stunned expression, before chuckling dryly. "Of course Young Master, Ragnok told me that you were unlike other wizards." She stated, then bowed once again. "I am Managing Director Snarltooth Young Master, Director Ragnok's counterpart." Standing straight once again Snarltooth informed him, "But as magical creatures we are compelled to use deferential title of address in regards to you Young Master. I am sure that your inner guardian has informed you of this. After all, you are our Mother's Childe."

"How do you know about that, and how do you know about Kaen?" Harry squawked, looking hesitantly over at Lucius and Draco who had frozen at the mention of the elves and the Kennyrrae, their prior surname.

Snarltooth and Ragnok smiled toothily. "Your magical signature, while still the same pattern, feels quite different." Ragnok explained. "Each goblin child is taught the feel of our Mother since birth. While she is not our Queen as she is to the elves like Lord Malfoy and his son, as magical creatures she is still our Mother, whom we call the Lady. The goblins have long since had a treaty with the High Elves, which still applies to this day despite the elves having disappeared almost 200 years ago. They told us that our Lady had told them of her Childe who would come among them, found by her _Asar_ and guided by his inner guardian, who I assume is this Kaen you mentioned. However, we have not had contact with them since that time unfortunately, but they are not extinct, of this we are sure."

"How do you know?" Draco asked hesitantly, eager to know more about his heritage.

Snarltooth replied; "The various vaults which we provided as part of the treaty have not been sealed as they would have had their owners died without heirs. They are still available, only needing the legal heirs' approval to open once again."

Turning to the Elder Malfoy, she informed him, "Lord Malfoy, I am to assume it was you who found the Young Master here as your son has not yet come into his inheritance?" At Lucius nod, she continued. "After your ancestors left, the Elven world was made aware of your line's quest. Unfortunately, we have no way of contacting them."

Nodding regally, Lucius replied, "As I understand it, it will be my people who contact us, not the opposite."

Nodding, Ragnok fixed Lucius and then Draco with a fierce gaze. "We of the Goblin Nation trust that you, as our Mother and Lady's chosen, will protect the Young Master. He has been through much, and there are those who do not have his best wishes in mind. While he does have his inner guardian, we must be able to rely on you of the Kennyrrae to guard and guide him. Do you accept?"

"We do." Lucius and Draco replied solemnly, something inside them stirring at the Goblin's formal words.

Turning to Harry who had sat in silence, observing the proceedings, Ragnok smiled and stated, "Well young Harry, you have a full time ahead of you. Blessed childe of the Mother as you are, do try and enjoy your life and the company of your friends." Bowing once again, he and Director Snarltooth slipped out of the office, leaving the trio to sit and attempt to take in all that they had learned.

"Well then!" Harry exclaimed, shaking his head to clear it before turning to face his blond companions. "After that, I'd say we need some comedy relief, don't you?" He asked, winking at Draco.

The younger Malfoy grinned, nodding. "Why yes dear brother, I'd say we do." Linking his arm with Harry's he beckoned to his father. "You said that magical creatures would be respectful and so they have. Harry's all set inheritance wise, so why don't we do a bit of shopping, eh Father?"

Lucius nodded, chuckling. "If we must." He said despondently.

"Oh come now Lucius, it's not _that_ bad!" Harry insisted, leading the group out into the hallway towards the exit.

"Visiting the devil twins?" Draco said incredulously, looking down at the head of black hair bobbing along beside him. "It's _always_ that bad."

Harry jerked to a stop outside Flourish and Blotts, pouting up at the two blondes beside him. "Lucius, Draco, _please?_ They might not even be there!" He persisted, gold-flecked emeralds sparkling up at them.

"Oh alright, alright." Draco sighed, leading the way towards the joke shop. "You're a manipulative little bastard aren't you, using that look on us." He sulked once they'd stepped inside the store, dodging various sparking and whizzing things darting through the brightly decorated shop.

"Why Draco dear, whatever do you mean?" The green-eyed mutant bantered, winking mischievously at the tall blonde. "I'm a Gryffindor you know, _surely_ you aren't accusing me of- of being _Slytherin?_ After all," he continued, pulling an innocent smile tinged with panic across his face, "everyone _knows_ that all of those snakes are all sly and scheming and- and just _evil_!" Harry finished, a pulling a fake horrified expression across his face and covering his mouth with his hand to hide his snickers.

The young Malfoy snorted, shoving the other boy playfully with a boot clad foot. "Gryffindor or not ickle snake-in-lion's-skin, you know you were meant for Slytherin; the hat said so, and you're worse than all us 'snakes' combined!"

Two voices suddenly piped in from behind said snake-in-lion's-skin as a large hand settled on either of his shoulders. "Why Harry… **you were holding out on us**…our little brother… **in **_**Slytherin?**_"

The black haired Gryffindor whirled around, throwing off the hands on his shoulders and freezing in shock for a moment, before throwing himself enthusiastically forward. "Fred, George!

**To Night Kiryuu; **_yes, Dumbledore is evilish in this one. He's not really evil, just manipulative and senile.=) _

**To skyinthenightslove; **_whoops, I kinda forgot about the Dursleys… I'll have to figure something out, thanks for reminding me!_

**To nachtdemon; **_I'm sorry if you're offended, I had assumed the main characters being Harry x Logan was enough and I didn't mean to lead you on, but thank you for informing me. I'll put a warning in the prologue. However, I __do not__ appreciate you suggesting that just because someone is homosexual they aren't normal. They're people too, just like you and me! Though I can't block you from reading my story, I must insist that if you comment again you refrain from commenting on your views against homosexuality. It's quite rude, and entirely unwelcome._

**And thanks to everyone who reviewed!**


	9. Chapter 8

**A.N. Well hello again lovelies, another chapter just for you! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, and remember, if you see something wrong in the story, **_**please**_** point it out since I'm entirely too lazy to properly look over it more than once, and I don't have a beta to do it for me.**

**Chapter 8**

Previously; _"Fred, George!"_

Harry, after checking to make sure his glamours over his feline attributes and the new streaks in his hair were in place, threw himself enthusiastically towards the red-headed twins, wrapping his arms about them in a fervent hug. The twins each threw an arm around his shoulders and waist, lifting him into the air and swinging him about several times before plopping him back onto the hard wood floors of their joke shop. "Hello little brother,** what brings you**to our esteemed store, **and in the company** of Malfoys no less!" Fred and George questioned in turns, raising their eyebrows as they turned to look at Lucius and Draco.

"Lord Malfoy, **Malfoy,** Harry told us about what you did** as a spy during the war and all…** We just wanted to say thank you** and to apologize to Draco** for how we treated him during school." The Weasley twins bowed in unison, before looking up with cheeky grins and spreading their arms wide. "Welcome… **to Weasley's wizard Wheezes…** our humble store."

Lucius looked confused for a minute, attempting to keep up with their tag-team style of speaking, then nodded regally in response while Draco just smirked. "It's not like you didn't have a reason for everything you did Weasleys." The younger Malfoy acquiesced, the closest thing to an apology for his actions that they were going to get.

"Now now little Dragon, **no need to be so formal;** all of that** is** **behind us now."** They chided, resting their elbows on either of Harry's shoulders (studiously ignoring his protests) and leaning against him, hands braced on their hips. "And after all; any friend of Harry's** is a friend of ours!** You can just call us Fred and George, **or if you like, Gred and Forge!"** They finished, giving the younger blonde flamboyant waves.

"Well Gred, Forge," Draco began, stepping further into the store with a confident smirk on his face, "Nice to meet you." He stuck his hand out in front of him, raising an aristocratic blonde eyebrow expectantly.

Chuckling, the twins each shook his hand before turning to Harry and ruffling his hair fondly. "We like this one! **You sure know how to pick em' **don't ya little brother? **Now what can we do for you?"**

"We're here to get a little comedy relief, eh Angel?" Draco informed them, dodging Harry's swipe for the hated nickname. The younger Malfoy had always teased his surrogate twin that with his delicate appearance, Harry closely resembled a Grecian angel painted by one of the masters of the Renaissance.

"**Angel eh? **We've never used **that one before, **thank you for the suggestion Draco." Fred and George bowed teasingly before continuing, "**Well, if it's comedy you're after,** you've come to right place! **Now what are you looking for? **Pranks? **Love potions? **Perhaps some trick treats? **Or a way to get out of class!" **They led Harry and Draco through the store, Lucius having wandered off to examine one of the colorful products that lined the walls.

Harry smiled warmly as the twins guided Draco on the grand tour, the tall redheads almost preening under the younger Malfoy's admiring comments towards their merchandise. It was nice to see the blonde Slytherin finally letting his mask slip outside familiar company. Stepping up beside him, Harry wrapped an arm about Draco's waist and asked, "Enjoying ourselves, are we Drake?"

"Yes," Draco drawled with a wry expression on his face. "Nice to be able to get a good look at everything _without_ being on the receiving end." He commented, looking with interest at the skiving snack-boxes, rather intrigued at the potions work that must have gone into them.

"Ah but where's the fun in that?" One of the twins questioned, crossing his arms to lean against a shelf while his doppelganger fielded questions from an eager customer.

Harry grinned and flicked him on the nose, having to stretch up on his toes to reach the gangly twin. "Tsk, tsk, I thought you'd learned to appreciate not being the victim after that little stint of mine?" Harry reprimanded, smirking viciously as the twin shuddered at the reminder of the week long streak of pranks Harry had pulled in retaliation for a particularly embarrassing incident of one the twins' 'surprises'. Harry nodded in satisfaction and quite a bit of vindictive glee."That's what I thought, eh Fred?"

Fred pouted at that as George came up behind him and rested his chin on Fred's shoulder. "Are you ever going to tell us **how you can tell us apart**? Not even _mum_ can do that, **even with all the practice she's had, **yelling at us n' all!"

"Wait, you can tell which one's which?" Draco cut in incredulously, looking from one twin to the other with a perplexed expression. "But they look the same, talk the same, everything!" He threw his hands up in the air, still examining the twins carefully.

Harry just smirked secretly, tapping the side of his nose with a pointer finger. "Ah, ah boys, remember; a magician never reveals his secrets!" He chirped blithely, skipping out of reach of their responding cuffs. "After all, if I told you, you would just work to be _more_ similar, and where would I be then?"

"In the same boat as everyone else!" Draco retorted, poking the smaller boy in the shoulder. "It's not fair that you're the only one who knows who's who!" He snagged Harry about the waist, rubbing his fist playfully into the teen's messy black hair. "Honestly, this is the first real conversation I've had with these two and I can already tell they're insufferable!"

"Hey! We **resemble that remark!"** The twins quipped, winking mischievously at the quarrelling pair. "Ya know Malfoy, **when you're not taunting, **bickering, **quarreling, **insulting, **sneering-"**

Harry cut them off with a hand over Fred and George's mouths. "Get on with it, will ya?" He giggled, rapping them both on the head gently.

"**Fine, fine. **Spoilsport…" They muttered, thumbing their noses at Harry in unison. "**When you're not being, well…"**

Snickering self-deprecatingly, Draco waved a hand and said, "No need to mince words boys; I acted like an ass, and I know it."

Fred and George just grinned and finished their sentence, "**Well, in your words, **when you're not being an ass, **you're really not that bad of a guy." **They shrugged and added, "For a Slytherin anyway.**"** Chuckling, they threw their arms over the youngest Malfoy's shoulders, leaning in on either side of his aristocratic face. "Well Draco… **Welcome to the Clan!" **They proclaimed, rubbing their fists into his blonde hair in a playful move.

"Goodie for me…" The blonde drawled sarcastically, pretending to slump dejectedly while sticking his tongue out at Harry who was smiling fondly. "Associating with Weasleys and the boy-who-lived, what is the world coming to?" He snarked, reaching up to nudge the twins' arms off of his shoulders.

"Weasleys consorting **with Malfoys, **who would have thought?" The twins quipped back, and then winked at Harry and Draco. "**Most importantly, **the Savior with **a so-called '**junior Death Eater'. **Anyone want to tell us **how that came to pass? **After all, **you two have been **at each other's throats **since 1st year. What happened **to change your perspective? **Calling each other '**Drake' and 'Angel' **instead of 'Ferret' and 'Potty'!" Fred and George stepped back and crossed their arms, raising their eyebrows questioningly in identical expressions. "**Come come, **speak up! **We're waiting you two."**

The pair of seventh years sighed and explained that they'd formed a tentative friendship during the beginning of sixth year, and that it had evolved into the bantering sort of brotherhood it was today. The Weasley twins sat in silence, absorbing the information while Harry looked on hesitantly, wary of their reactions. Fred and George just grinned mischievously and reassured him, saying, "Don't worry little brother, **like we said before; **he's part of the clan now." Then their expressions turned stony, and one of them added, "Ickle Ronniekins ain't gonna like it though little brother. You know how he is."

Harry nodded fatalistically with a depressed expression, perking up slightly when Draco threw a comforting arm over his shoulder and drew the raven-haired boy in close. "It's alright Angel," Draco crooned, resting his head on the other boy's and rocking from side to side lightly. He knew the hot-tempered redhead was a sore-spot for Harry, who long suspected that Ron had only used Harry for his fame. All they needed now was for him to confirm that suspicion. "It's not your fault, never your fault." The blonde whispered.

"**Don't blame yourself little bro!" **The twins started, one of them reaching out to stroke Harry's arm soothingly. "It's not your fault that Ron's a prick; **that blame belongs to him **and him alone." Fred and George both thought frantically for a minute, trying to come up with a way to distract the black haired Gryffindor from his current line of thinking. Snapping their fingers in unison they asked curiously, "Being seventeen now and all, **its safe to say that you **went through your inheritance **at Gringotts before you came to visit." **They leaned down, putting their faces next to Harry's despondent one. "But why don't you explain… **why you're wearing a glamour?**"

Draco and Harry tensed, and Harry muttered, "Should have known they'd be able to see it. They always were the more observant of the lot." He sighed and looked up at Draco, murmuring, "What should we do_?"_

Thinking for a minute as he avoided the twins' gazes, Draco responded, "Just only take the glamour over your Gryffindor changes off_."_

Shaking his head slightly, Harry explained, "The twins learned that they could see glamours last year, they'll know if I still have others on_._" Nodding, Draco looked about for any sign of his father. Catching a glint of long white-blonde hair, he beckoned Lucius over with a look.

"Yes son?" The elder Malfoy asked, raising an eyebrow at the rather panicked expression on Harry's face. "Amazing work by the way boys; some of these projects are intriguing. Severus would love to analyze some of the potions work they must have required." Lucius added, his opinion of the twins going up a notch as he nodded in their direction. "Well Draco, what's the problem?" He reiterated.

Draco leaned in close next to his father's ear, pointed tips hidden with a strong glamour, and whispered, "They know Harry's got glamours on, and they'll know if he doesn't take all of them off." Lucius hissed in surprise; being able to see glamours without the help of enchanted spectacles or a magical eye like Alastor Moody's was a uncommon trait, something the half-elf wasn't expecting to be a problem because of the rarity of the skill. The elder Malfoy's Slytherin mind quickly calculated the risks to his Prince and his family, mind breezing through possible scenarios should the Weasley twins react badly to the news. It was an unlikely possibility, seeing as the twins had always been reliable and loyal to Harry (whom they considered a member of their family and, therefore, their younger brother) unlike hot-tempered Ronald, but he would not risk his Prince's well being _or_ his happiness, let alone his son's.

Looking around warily, the tall blonde motioned for them to follow, warning, "Not here, there are too many people watching." Fred and George both raised skeptical eyebrows, pondering at what was so important that Lucius, Draco and Harry would surround it with so much secrecy, but led them into a back room after gesturing a sales assistant to watch the shop. Shutting the heavy wooden door with a soft click, the Malfoys and Harry sat on the various boxes of inventory scattered about, and the twins leant against the white-washed walls with expectant expressions on their faces.

"Well little brother, **what's all this secrecy about?" **The twins questioned, noticing the rather hesitant look that had encompassed the black-haired boy's face.** "**Off with the glamours; **you couldn't have changed that much! **And besides, even if you did **you should know by now **that you're family, **and family sticks together." **Then George shrugged and added, "Except for Ron that is."

Harry sighed, looking to Lucius and Draco quickly for reassurance. Closing his eyes, he decided to start small, gathering magic in his hand in an unconscious gesture and running it nervously through his hair to remove the glamours over his newly acquired Gryffindor and Slytherin streaks. Fred and George watched curiously as their younger brother's shoulder-blade length black tresses shimmered for a moment, before dark auburn strips wove their way down, glinting blood-red in the dim lights of the store room. A long, emerald tinted lock swung into similarly colored eyes that were clouded with doubt.

The red-headed pair just shrugged, saying, "Well that's nothing too major, **just a bit of a new fashion statement." **Then they fixed Harry with a pointed stare, their bright-blue eyes that normally sparkled gaily unusually serious. "But that's not all **that you're covering up. **You used **wandless magic just now, **and you've still got glamours **over your face, **hands, **and for some reason, **your trousers. **Is there something **to do with your bum **that ya don't want us **to see?" Fred and George grinned lecherously at that, winking at the teen teasingly.

"No guys, nothing like that." Harry denied, waving his hands in front of him as he blushed furiously. Biting his lip carefully to avoid piercing it with the sharp canines that had slid from his gums in his agitation, the young mutant took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and slid the rest of his glamours off. In the silence that followed, Harry felt horribly naked; bare of his glamours once again in the presence of two people that could reject, and thus, scar him forever. His ears flicked back and forth, trying in vain to pick up some sound from the twins, and his white-tipped tail twitched unconsciously in the air behind him. As the quiet stretched on, Harry clenched his fists by his sides, not even wincing at the pain when his claws pierced his skin, fearing the worst.

Then, a purr rumbled deep in his chest as two strong, warm hands found their way behind his black triangular ears, scratching gently. Rubbing his head unconsciously into the stroking fingers, Harry's emerald eyes slid halfway open to reveal twin pairs of brilliant blues glinting with mischief. Fred and George grinned as they sandwiched the smaller boy between them, one petting his ears as the other played idly with his twitching black tail. "Aren't you a pretty kitty?" Fred crooned, smile widening as Harry glared up at him for the remark but couldn't bring himself to pull away. Lucius and Draco smirked as Harry's contented purrs continued, the Weasley twins examining his new features.

"Well," they started, finally withdrawing from Harry who blushed sheepishly, "we're not sure _**why **_**Harry's a cat now, **but we don't really care anyway **as long as it's not dangerous."** They shrugged nonchalantly. "Besides that, **it's nothing big. **Besides, **Harry's cuter this way!" **Fred and George exclaimed, smiling cheekily at the still blushing Harry.

When the black-haired boy finally stopped flushing in embarrassment, he and the Malfoys spent the better part of the following hour attempting to explain everything that had changed in Harry's life since his birthday the night before. The Weasley twins took the news about mutants and the Mother surprisingly well, with only a small assortment of questions to clarify things and solidify their understanding of the situation. Kaen, whom Fred and George liked immediately for his mischievous attitude, even popped out for a short while to answer a few of the twins' queries and thank them for supporting Harry. The only thing that really shocked the two troublemakers was the Malfoys' status as half-blooded High Elves, as-like Draco- they had believed that particular race to be extinct.

"Well little brother, we can't say we're really surprised. **You always have been special; **we've known that from the beginning." Fred and George each threw and arm over Harry's shoulders, hugging him comfortingly. "As to what you have **to do with this, **Lord Malfoy, **Draco; **as long as our little brother is safe, **happy, **and you or someone else is protecting him, **we're satisfied. **Now if you don't mind, **we've really been **away from the shoptoo long, **and** **we'd best get back. **Oh, and, little brother," They added, smirking secretly. "**There's a surprise for you **this year at Hogwarts. **Don't worry, **it's nothing bad, **and we think **you'll rather enjoy it. **Ta-Ta!" **The pair grinned and, with sweeping bows and cheeky smiles, slipped out of the room.

"Those two…" Harry murmured, shaking his head wryly before turning to look at the two smirking blondes behind him. "What are you two gloating about this time?" He grumbled.

Lucius simply smirked wider while Draco thumbed his nose and laughed out, "We told you that your real friends wouldn't care Angel!"

The green-eyed teen just humphed and bantered, "Did you seriously just say 'I told you so' Drake? I thought you had more pride than that." Dodging Draco's swipe, he continued, "Well we'd best be getting our things, right Luc? After all, that's what we came for."

"Yes," The elder blonde drawled, standing and stretching subtly from his seat on a wooden crate, "we seem to continue to be side-tracked." Mock glaring at Harry, he asked, "Now whose fault could that be?" But the raven-haired boy just gave him an innocent expression. Shaking his head sardonically, Lucius led the way out of the storeroom, digging the list of required items from his robes as he went and preparing himself for what was inevitably going to be a _very_ long day.

**

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**

The esteemed members of the Wizengamot, around fifty political figures and family heads in all, were seated on a dais of varying heights arranged about the large square room that served as their meeting place. All available members were present, save for one. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump of the International Council of Wizards was notably absent. Usually, according to his position as the head of the venerated organization of the Wizengamot, Albus Dumbledore presided over the proceedings, yet he was nowhere to be found.

Instead, Amelia Bones, newly elected Minister of Magic stood in his place. The strong-willed former auror sat in the highest chair, watching the assorted men and women around her chatter with a small smirk on her face. She could hear a few whispers regarding Dumbledore's absence, and a great deal of questioning as to why the Wizengamot had suddenly been called into session so suddenly without prior notice. Glancing down at the gold plated time-piece tucked into one of the pockets of her deep plum colored robes; she stood and, with a clap of sound from her wand, addressed the assembly.

"As the interim head of the esteemed members of the Wizengamot, I call this meeting into session." Amelia began, her calm and assured voice ringing throughout the following silence. "My fellow Witches and Wizards, I –in my capacity as Minister- have called you here today to discuss a matter that has just recently come to my attention. It was brought to light by an acquaintance of mine –who will be attending this session at a later time- and I come here to bring it to you."

Looking out at the rather confused seeming magic-users seated about the room, Amelia continued, "I am sure that many of you have noticed that Headmaster Dumbledore is conspicuously absent from this session. Unfortunately, due to his position as the Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Professor must be barred from attending this conference." Questioning murmurs arose from the assembled crowd, wondering what was so sensitive towards _the_ Albus Dumbledore. Madame Bones drew their attention back towards her with a sharp clearing of her throat. "Since my appointment as Minister and due to my own opinions as well as frequent prompting from several others, I have asked the Headmaster several times to add a particular class into the Hogwarts curriculum. But each time he has refused, insisting that it was not required or even _beneficial. _Today, I bring this issue before you."

An elderly wizard near the left wall stood with a stern expression. "Madame Bones, I do not see how this situation applies to we of the Wizengamot." He stated with a disapproving air. "I am sure you are aware that, as a part of the Ministry, we have little to no authority over Hogwarts, and the little that we do have _does not_ include deciding on matters of curriculum."

"Ah, Lord Blishwick." Amelia said, turning to the Pureblood Lord with a raised eyebrow. "Yes, I am aware of that information. In our normal capacity, we have absolutely no control regarding classes. However," She looked pointedly about the square space, pulling a rolled up piece of parchment from an inner pocket. "Here, I hold a section copied from the Hogwarts Charter, the document that holds the regulations for the operation of the school."

"What?" A middle-aged man spat, glaring up at the former-auror incredulously. "There is no such thing! Surely, Madame, you are mistaken."

But the Minister just gave him a stony look. "No, Mr. Diggory, I am not."

"She is correct Lord Diggory." A woman from the other side of the room put in. "The Hogwarts Charter was written by the four founders to ensure that Hogwarts was properly run after their time. However, many have forgotten it. There used to be a copy on display in both the front hall and the Headmaster's office, but it was removed some time ago, and has since faded into obscurity. Nevertheless, there _is_ a copy in the Hall of Records here at the Ministry." The witch nodded at Amelia and sat down once again.

"Hmph." Amos Diggory sniffed. Amelia merely shot him her best glare and went on.

"Now, I quote an excerpt from the Charter that will explain how you of the Wizengamot are needed." Clearing her throat, she unrolled the parchment and began. "'_Hogwarts is a school of learning, required to teach all accepted courses deemed appropriate by the Headmaster and/or the Board of Governors_. _However, if a course is felt appropriate, but the Headmaster and Board deny the request, the class may be established by a majority vote of the governing body of the Wizengamot" _At that sentence several harsh intakes of breath were heard._ "–Excepting all concerned parties such as the Headmaster or members of the board– as well as one or more of our established heirs._'"

Several members of the assembly blinked incredulously up at the Minister, finally grasping the both the reason that they had been called and the cause for the revered Headmaster's absence. One, however, did more than simply _blink, _seeming rather outraged that the Minister would even _consider_ that they would go against Dumbledore. Instead of sitting quietly yet concernedly, this individual voiced his complaints. _Loudly, _voiced his complaints.

"_This _is why you have called us today?" It was Lord Diggory again, father of Cedric Diggory who had been murdered by Voldemort during the tri-wizard tournament, and a staunch Dumbledore supporter. "Madame Minister, I find myself astounded that you would lower yourself to this, let alone that you would assume that we of the Wizengamot would concern ourselves with these matters!"

An elderly woman across the room from Amos stood with an indignant expression. "Lord Diggory, the education of our children is a concern to _all _of us, and should be treated as such. If you cannot find it important, at least accept that others _do._ I'm sure that if Madame Bones thinks this significant enough to bring it to our attention, it is well worth it." She nodded once to Amelia and, with one last scathing glare towards Cedric's father, sat back into her seat.

"Thank you, Madam Goshawk." Amelia nodded in return at the dignified looking witch. Turning back to Lord Diggory –and those around him who had similar expressions but thankfully did not add to the man's statements- with a firm expression, she explained patiently, "I assure you Lord Diggory, this matter _is_ worthy of your attentions." Her gaze swept the room, face set in stone. "_All _of your attentions."

One of the haughty looking wizards that had rallied around Amos stood, nose firmly in the air. "Very well Madame, just what class would you suggest that the Headmaster did not approve of? I am sure that all of us are simply _dying_ to know what folly you have called us all here to discuss. Besides, I would like to get this excuse for a council session over as quickly as possible." His tone was condescending as he looked about pompously, not even bothering to hide his disdain for the new Minister.

Amelia was unfazed by the man's brazen taunting, voice and face schooled perfectly into a politely disinterested mask. Allowing her expression to slip for a moment to reveal a small smirk, she responded, "Very well, Lord Selwyn." Clasping her hands behind her back in the standard position for parade rest she had been taught during her training as an auror, Amelia looked emotionlessly out at the assembled wizards and witches. "For some time now, myself and my associates have become concerned with an area of the wizarding public that we find sorely lacking." She ignored the slighted looks a number of members were sporting and powered on. "During my time in both wars against the Dark Lord and his supporters as an auror, our department realized that, besides the department Magical of Law Enforcement and the occasional Unspeakable, the greater part of the wizarding public _does not_ know how to defend themselves-"

"Madame Minister, this is absurd!" Lord Selwyn –who had apparently taken over Amos Diggory's role as the main antagonist– interrupted, ignoring the glares from the other side of the room for the rude gesture. "The war with He-who-must-not-be-named is over; it has been for months now!"

"All the more reason for this to be a concern!" Amelia insisted, frowning at the Lord's distasteful actions. "A great deal of the war was influenced by the public's fear of Death Eater raids, mainly because they _could not_ fight back. And despite Lord Voldemort's defeat," she ignored the inevitable flinches at the name, "many of his Death Eaters are still at large and avoiding capture."

Lord Selwyn sneered mockingly at the Minister, sniffing haughtily. "Yes," he drawled contemptuously, "why ever could that be?"

"What are you suggesting Lord Selwyn?" Neville's Grandmother, Madame Longbottom spoke up. The stern matron had been good friends with Amelia for some time, sharing many of her ideals and giving the newly elected Minister advice whenever she needed it. The Pureblood Lord had a lot of gall to be so blatantly mocking; if Amelia's motion passed he would be making a great number of enemies, something that –after his son's questionable dealings during the war– the man _could not _afford. Lord Selwyn was either very confident, or just very stupid.

"Nothing at all Lady Longbottom, merely idle conjecture I assure you." Selwyn replied patronizingly, speaking slowly as if to a child. He bowed shallowly in the elderly woman's direction before turning back to question the Minister with a sneer. "Madame Minister, if you would continue?"

Amelia nodded regally. "As I was saying, many of the public have little to no proficiency with dueling with their wands, and only a handful can do much of anything if or when they are disarmed. The common wizard or witch becomes absolutely useless as soon as they lose their wands. I believe that many of the students at Hogwarts would benefit greatly if a physical class was introduced, one that teaches the importance of dodging and encourages them to reach and maintain a state of fitness."

"Two teachers have already been selected and are willing to teach at least this year of students. The class will include absolutely no magic whatsoever, and –if the students are willing –will most likely include several types of weapons both muggle and magical." A few of the Wizengamot members blanched at that, while others began nodding approvingly. "And while the students will not become dueling masters overnight," Amelia continued, "it will at least give them a solid foundation of how to defend themselves should the need arise. Headmaster Dumbledore has refused my requests several times on the grounds that he does not believe such 'violence' has ever been necessary, even during the times of the war. So I stand before you today requesting your opinion and your vote to add this to the curriculum at Hogwarts this coming year." Amelia nodded at the surrounding witches and wizards, steeling herself for the oncoming discussion.

Lord Blishwick –the severe looking elderly wizard that had asked Amelia what Hogwarts Curriculum had to with the Wizengamot– spoke first. "Madame, I can see how such a class would have been extremely beneficial _during_ the wars against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but I fail to grasp why you would employ it at this time." His voice was stern but polite; the older Lord was well known for being frightfully blunt, but very fair and held himself –and others –to a strict code of ethics. He was loyal to only himself, and not afraid of repercussions should his straight-forward manner cause someone to take offense.

The Minister slightly bowed her head respectfully in his direction, carefully planning her next words. If she managed to convince Blishwick to push the class through, Amelia new many more that trusted the elder man's judgment would follow. "Lord Blishwick, the reason I find this so important is because I want to prevent something like Voldemort's rise from ever happening again. That the Dark Lord was able to rise so easily tells us that it he most likely did so because he had so little resistance. He attacked, we could not fight back, and he constantly gained ground despite our best efforts. If the younger generations were taught to defend themselves more adequately, if and/or when another ambitious witch or wizard attempts to take advantage of the power vacuum produced by Voldemort's downfall, they will find themselves unable to form a stable power-base from which to attempt further attacks."

Blishwick hmmed slightly with an approving look as he examined her logic. When the elderly wizard had been silent for some time, apparently in contemplation, another member of the Wizengamot spoke up. "So you are suggesting that Hogwarts teaches a sort of dueling class?" At Amelia's nod, they continued, "Madame Minister, I recall that a few years ago Headmaster Dumbledore attempted a club with the same goal, but it lasted only a handful of sessions. Why would this, class or not, last for any longer duration of time?"

Amelia nodded and confidently replied, "I believe this endeavor would be significantly more successful for one main reason; the dueling club in question years ago was headed by one Gilderoy Lockhart." Several of the Wizengamot members suppressed snorts of derision at the mention of the fraud Professor that had only just recently been released from St. Mungo's after a botched _Obliviate _attempt that had erased the man's memories in their entirety. "As I am sure you all are well aware, Mr. Lockhart was completely inept as a teacher, and as such the club fell through. However, with the proper instructors who are actually competent…" She let the sentence trail off suggestively.

"But there is no need!" Amos Diggory was back, firmly protesting. "We have no need to undermine the Headmaster's authority for such a trivial matter that is not even necessary because _the war is already over!"_

"Lord Diggory, Madame Bones' explanations are well founded." It was Lord Blishwick, finally coming out of his deliberations and sporting a pleased expression. "If instigated properly, this class could be _extremely _beneficial. I have long believed that not enough focus was given to such matters, and personally am relieved that someone has finally seen fit to bring it to the Headmaster's –and our own– attentions. Many of the children could do well to become proficient in this area." The pureblood paused for a moment, looking meaningfully about at the other members of the Wizengamot, many of which were, well, _out of shape_ is putting it kindly. "As could many seated here."

Diggory sniffed haughtily, become wary as greater numbers of the Wizengamot, before indecisive, were influenced towards Amelia's side by Blishwick's endorsement. "It is no matter," Amos sneered, smirking patronizingly. "The Wizengamot can not affect this matter without the consent of a founder's heir. However, there have been no officially and publicly recognized heirs for quite a long while now, and as such this discussion is both useless and irrelevant. There are no heirs living!" His sneer widened and he nodded emphatically, sitting back down with a satisfied smirk.

"On the contrary Lord Diggory." The smooth, silky voice came from the shadowed corner closest to Amelia's elevated chair. "You will find that I am very much alive."

**

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**A.N. =) I was gonna make the chapter longer but couldn't resist cutting it off there, it was just the perfect place! **

**To RealitySwitcher; **Thank you so much for pointing that out! I always thought it was black ^^' Luckily that's not too bad of an error as most of the time things that we think are black are actually really dark-brown anyway, but I'd rather not have any errors at all! I can't promise to change it right away since I planning on completing the story first and then going back for a re-write (unless the error was huge and glaring) but I'll try to avoid using it in the future! Thanks again

And thanks to all who reviewed!


	10. Chapter 9

**A.N. Alright peeps, you may have noticed some changes with the story. I agreed with the reviewers that said the pace was too slow, so I'm editing out some parts and combining other chapters. I'm just as frustrated as you guys that Logan and Harry haven't met yet, but the story just doesn't seem to want to play out that way! I've tried and tried, but something always seems to come up! It's annoying me, so I'm gonna see if I can't shorten the time. Thank you ****so**** much to everyone who's reviewed and I'm sorry if you're impatient, but bear with me; I'm new at this. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 9**

Previously; _"On the contrary Lord Diggory. You will find that I am very much alive."_

The smooth, cultured voice came from the shadows nearest to the Minister's chair. Soft as the words were, the tenor voice rang clearly throughout the square room. As the Wizengamot members stared fixedly at the shadowed space, a sparse number of those closest to it were able to make out a dark silhouette cloaked in black. Lord Diggory, who had been stunned momentarily as he was clearly not expecting opposition, stuttered confusedly several times before adopting a haughty expression. "You there, I demand that you show yourself!" He commanded pompously, nose in the air.

There was slight movement in the corner, and one of the official secretaries tasked with recording the meeting managed to see the form lifting what appeared to be their hand. With a quick flick, the shadows concealing the area melted away, seemingly receding back into the walls and leaving the space open for observation. Clear light or no, the assembly was still unable to discern much about the figure. Tall and thin, the strong build revealed that they were a male, shrouded in a black cloak edged in emerald green with sinuous silver snakes weaving through the stitching. His face was masked in the shadows thrown over it by the cowl of his cloak; all they could perceive was the lower half.

Pale, smooth skin. Sharp and defined jaw line. Perfectly formed pale pink lips. High, aristocratic cheekbones. The subject of their scrutiny stood stock still for a few seconds, letting the curious witches and wizards about him observe. Then, lips shifting into a secretive smirk, he turned and said, "Hello again Amelia." Ignoring the handful of the assembly that blanched at the familiar address, he continued, "I am glad to see you well. Please forgive my lateness, I am afraid I had a little business to catch up on that ran later than I had expected." He bowed slightly from the waist at Amelia's nod, and then turned to Lord Diggory. "Well Lord Diggory, here I am. What do you wish of me?" He asked, spreading his arms wide, black glove covered palms up.

Regaining his pompous air, Amos sneered down at the sable cloaked figure with barely veiled disdain. "This is a _classified_ meeting, you have no business here! I'm afraid I'm going to have to call the guards to remove you." He gestured to the two aurors stationed beside the doorway, ignoring the fact that –as he was not a department head, a senior auror, or the chief Warlock– he had no authority to do so. The two law wizards looked at each other questioningly for a moment, shrugged, and began walking over.

Amelia shot the stranger a sharp glance, to which he shook his head slightly in the smallest of movements. The two aurors stepped up beside Lord Diggory and asked, "Yes Lord Diggory?"

"Escort this man out!" Diggory ordered with a vicious smirk. When the lawmen failed to move he turned to them and commanded furiously, "Did you not hear me? I order you to arrest this man!"

"Lord Diggory sir…" One began hesitantly, looking frantically to his partner for help. "Someone with Madam Bones' authority has to consent for us to act within the assembly room and-"

But Amos cut him off, spit flying as he shrieked, "Follow my orders you dimwit! I'm acting on _my _authority and I-" He himself was cut off by a gloved hand being placed over his mouth.

You see, unbeknownst to Lord Diggory, during his tirade the very man he was ordering arrested walked calmly over to the barrier before Amos' Wizengamot seat, vaulted easily over, and came to a stop in front of the irate Lord. Now, the stranger in question nonchalantly covered the man's screeching mouth, leaning his shadowed face in close to the other man without even sparing a glance towards the two tensed aurors behind him.

"Lord Diggory, really. Let's cease making such a spectacle, shall we?" The cloaked man asked Lord Diggory conversationally. When the Pureblood Lord began protesting after the hand was removed, the figure casually raised a finger and reprimanded, "Come now Lord Diggory, I assure you there is no need to have me arrested as I _do_ have permission to attend this meeting. We wouldn't want to waste these poor men's time, would we?" The cowl covered head turned and he waved cheekily towards the lawmen that stood cautiously watching. "Hello boys, I'm just finishing up this lovely chat with milord here. I'm sure you can go back to your posts now, isn't that right Amelia?" He directed towards the amused Minister. At her nod, the pair of aurors shrugged and ambled back over to their places guarding the door.

Turning back to the still spluttering Lord Diggory, the stranger continued calmly. "Now, I'm sure that we can come to some arrangement Lord Diggory; as I said, I _am _allowed to be here."

"By whose authority?" Amos spat, glaring up at the hooded man.

"Mine." Amelia's voice rang out calm and clear. The stern woman stood, leaning forward with her hands braced on the wooden barrier in front of her seat. "Wizards of the Wizengamot, this young man is the acquaintance I referred to earlier. I _did _mention that he would be attending, did I not?"

Several members nodded as the black swathed man sauntered back to the middle of the square room, leaning against a banister. From her place beside Amelia, Augusta Longbottom asked genially, "Does this guest have a name? I must confess to being intrigued as to your identity young man."

Said guest grinned roguishly, bowing deeply from the waist with one hand over his heart and the other swept to the side in the gallant fashion that had been popular when Augusta was a young girl. "Lux Noir, at your service Madame." Still prostrated he looked up and said, "I would kiss your hand Madame, as is proper, but I admit that you are too far out of reach to one such as I."

To everyone's surprise, the severe older woman actually _blushed _at his attentions. Many of the elder witches nodded approvingly at his conduct, and one even commented, "It is not every day that one has the pleasure to meet a young one that holds the proper respect and is as polite as yourself. Not many bother to learn the old ways."

"Thank you Madame." Lux responded, bowing once again. "I regret to say that I did not have the privilege of a mother to teach me manners, but I like to think I managed rather well despite that." What little they could see of his face dropped slightly at the mention of his mother, but Lux quickly perked back up, turning to Amelia. "Now, I believe we had been discussing the problem as to finding a founder's heir, correct?"

Amelia provided him with a stately nod and was about to reply when Lord Selwyn cut in, picking up from where Diggory had left off. "Yes Mr.- Noir is it? My compatriot Lord Diggory had just been explaining that there are no heirs currently alive when we were, ah, _interrupted."_ He stressed not so subtly, smirking disdainfully down at Lux.

"Ah, but milord, as I said; I am very much living." Lux responded, locking his and leaning against a wall with an innocent expression. "Or at least, I was the last I checked." He shrugged, looking down at his hands as if to make sure they were, in fact flesh and blood. Examining them for a minute, then, apparently satisfied, he nodded emphatically and looked questioningly back at Selwyn.

The Lord spluttered indignantly before scowling, attempting to be threatening. "You would do well not to mock me, _boy._" He spat, but an elderly wizard beside him waved a hand and interrupted his tirade, saying,

"Do you mean to say that _you_ are a founder's heir?" The older man's creaky voice was incredulous, as were many of the faces around him.

Lux grinned and, with a quick twist of his wrist, he held a thin wand in his hand, twirling it about his fingers. With a casual flick, a serpent of smoke curled from the tip, twining into the air to form Salazar's serpent crest. Sweeping an elegant bow, he straightened and threw off his cloak in a sharp move, swirling it high into the air. As it fell billowing in waves down to the white marble-paved floor, he intoned; "Indeed Lord Brown. Lux Anguis Noir… Heir of Slytherin."

The members of the Wizengamot froze in shock, both at his words and his appearance. Short, spiked silver hair tipped with blue fell slightly into deep slate-grey eyes lined with thick black kohl above high cheekbones. One curved ear peaked out, pierced with a single dangling silver cross. His straight nose led to bowed lips covering slightly fanged teeth and a firm chin. Smooth, pale skin contrasted sharply against a plain black choker and polished close-fitting leather decorated with straps and silver clasps. Tight black pants hung with delicate chains flared slightly at the bottoms above sturdy black combat boots fastened with a trio of silver buckles.

Hands stuffed into his pockets, Lux watched with a wide –and frankly, rather manic– grin and half-lidded eyes as the stately wizards and witches about him observed his rather unorthodox appearance, waiting for his words to fully register in their shock filled minds. Shifting from foot to foot and fiddling with the gothic cross hung from his choker, he began to grow impatient as everyone (besides Amelia) just sat there gawking. Used to staring as he was, it still managed to get on his nerves after a while. Turning to Amelia and scratching the back of his head sheepishly, he chuckled nervously and sweat-dropped. "Erm, Amelia? I think I broke them…"

"You really should have worn more conventional clothes H- Lux." Amelia chided good naturedly, barely twitching at the slip. "You know how people usually react to your style of attire." She mock frowned at him, then gave a wry grin as she shook her head.

Lux just pouted, whining, "Aw, but where's the fun in that? It's much more entertaining this way!" He crossed his arms; enjoying the cool feel of leather on his skin and feeling the fabric creak slightly as he moved. "Besides, do you really think the reason they're gaping is my _clothing? _Really Amelia, it's the _Slytherin _aspect I'm sure."

Finally, one of the Wizengamot recovered, clearing his throat to gain the bantering pair's attentions. "Indeed Mr. Noir, I'm afraid we were taken rather by surprise, though I'm sure your, ah, _eclectic _preferences did have some effect." He coughed awkwardly, but grinned affably down at the slightly blushing Lux.

"Tch, yeah, I get that a lot." Lux responded, shrugging casually. "Still, it's never had quite this effe-"

"Pah." Selwyn barked, cutting him off. "A brat with no respect for propriety, claiming to be Slytherin's heir. Just an attention seeking _boy_."

Lux fixed him with hard grey eyes, glare frigid as ice. "I am no _boy_ Lord Selwyn." He stated calmly, eyes lit with an inner flame of power. "Young as I may be, I have _never _been a child. I experienced the war with Voldemort just as much as any other, perhaps more. And I do not _claim _to be Salazar's heir." He paused for a moment, seeing a triumphant smirk stretching across Selwyn's face. "I **am** Salazar's heir." Shoving a slender hand into his pocket, Lux rifled around a little bit before withdrawing. With a quick flick of his wrist he smoothly tossed whatever it was towards Lord Selwyn, the small object glinting in the lantern light as it fell neatly into the Pureblood Lord's lap.

Sneering at the expectant Lux, Selwyn plucked the sparkling item from his robe covered knees. Holding it up to the flickering lamps, he revealed it to be a silver band with an emerald sphere mounted upon it. Smirking, he scoffed, "A pretty bauble. Was this supposed to mean something to me?"

"That it was Lord Selwyn." Lux responded politely, expectant expression never fading. "If you would be so kind as to look at the face of the ring-?" He trailed off suggestively, gesturing with his hand.

"Hmph." The haughty man scoffed, glancing once disdainfully at the surface of the brilliant emerald. "Just as I thought, merely a-" He cut himself off, scrabbling frantically as he almost dropped the delicate band in his surprise. Once it was firmly in his grasp once again, he stared down at the intricate snake subtly etched into the gem; the tell tale crest of Slytherin. He sputtered momentarily before adopting a self-important expression. "It is not particularly advanced magic to duplicate jewelry, nor does it exactly flatter one's character." He suggested blatantly.

Titus Fellinger, a prominent jeweler and head of the craftsman's guild there in England spoke up, raising a hand. "If you don't mind Mr. Noir, if I may take a look?" Lux nodded and, with a casual wave of a gloved hand, the ring flew from one Lord to the other. Merely raising an eyebrow at the blasé use of wandless magic, Lord Fellinger pulled a monocle from an inner pocket of his robe, raising the silver band molded into a twining snake up to the light. Turning it this way and that, he waved his wand several times around the emerald, looking more and more satisfied after each pass. Finally, with a tap of his wand in the middle of the serpent engraved neatly into the center, the slender ivory wand in the craftsman's hand lit up with a white light not unlike the _Lumos _spell.

Nodding once with a pleased expression, Fellinger raised his head, tucking the monocle back into his plum colored robes. Standing up, he proclaimed, "This is no copy or illusion. It is, in fact, Slytherin's family ring." Bowing his head slightly in Lux's direction, he intoned, "Greetings Lord Slytherin."

Lux inclined his head briefly to the jeweler, summoning the ring back to his hand without a word. "Thank you, Lord Fellinger." Looking confidently about the assorted wizards and witches staring at him with various degrees of shock and confusion, he deadpanned, "Is this enough proof for the members of the Wizengamot? Or shall some of your number be impudent once more and force me to undergo a blood ritual?" He looked pointedly at Lords Diggory and Selwyn, noting their flushed and indignant appearances. The two haughty purebloods just sniffed, trying to play off their embarrassment, at which Lux sent them a cocky smirk.

Turning back to the fondly smiling Amelia, Lux said, "Well Amelia, with that out of the way," He pulled his wand from where he had slipped it back into his sleeve and stated, " Madam Bones, you have my official permission as Salazar's heir to contest the Headmaster's decision in this matter." As the words left his lips, both he and Amelia were enveloped in a soft blue glow for a moment before it faded away. _Must be how Magic makes it official, _Lux thought to himself, shrugging lightly as he twisted the plain silver ring that adorned one of his fingers.

"Thank you, Lord Slytherin." Amelia stated formally, then turned back to look over the assembled Lords and Ladies of the Wizarding World. "Well my fellows, there are no more legal oppositions." Pacing slowly back and forth in the confined space in front of her chair, she continued, "These are your choices; first, to let our society fall further into complacency and the folly we have become entrapped in for centuries, leaving our children, and thus, the hope of our world, defenseless. Or second, take a stand. Provide our young with the foundations to protect themselves, to protect _our future_. You already know my –and Lord Slytherin's– choice. Esteemed members of the Wizengamot, it is time to make your own."

* * *

With a curt nod and a slight smile, Amelia Bones, English Minister of Magic and temporary Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot turned to face the assembly, warning, "Remember my brothers and sisters, we _are _bound not to discuss the contents of this meeting –including Lord Slytherin's identity –with anyone without the proper clearance. Now," she declared, "as the interim head of the esteemed members of the Wizengamot, I call this meeting to a close."

The various magic users sitting throughout the room stood up in unison, bowed, and began filing out of their rows as they chattered enthusiastically with their fellows. Lux leaned shoulder against the raised platform below Amelia's seat, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather pants as he watched the Wizengamot members discuss his and Amelia's defiance of the Headmaster with a small smirk playing around his lips. It felt good to get one up on the old codger, even if it _was _such a small victory.

Someone cleared their throat loudly behind him and, with a sigh; he spun about, raising an eyebrow. Side by side, Lords Diggory and Selwyn stood opposite him sporting self-important expressions. Bowing his head the slightest amount, Selwyn began in an arrogant tone, "Mr. Noir, I don't know if you are aware of who I am, but my name is Demetrius Selw-"

"You are Lord Demetrius Selwyn, seventy-fifth generation pureblood and head of the Ancient House of Selwyn. Your family owns a great deal of wineries along the coast of Spain as well as holding investments in most of the major companies in the wizarding world." Lux cut him off sharply, grey eyes cold. "Your companion is Lord Amos Diggory, eighty-sixth generation pureblood and head of the Ancient House of Diggory, whose family owns most of the shares in the Daily Prophet and a number of other prominent businesses." Fixing them with frigid dark grey eyes that flashed gold, he continued, "_I _am Lord Lux Noir-Slytherin, the last member and Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin, and I see no reason to be talking to you. Good day." He finished, turning about to walk away but stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. Noir, really, if you'd just be reasonable," Diggory began, attempting to turn Lux back around forcefully by the shoulder.

Whipping around, Lux glared fiercely at the two men –who stepped back unconsciously at the power crackling behind his grey eyes which were beginning to bleed emerald. "My _name, _Lord Diggory, is Lord Slytherin." He spat, throwing the offensive limb off of his shoulder. "And you would do well to remember that."

"Of course." Selwyn murmured placatingly, not-so-subtly elbowing the affronted looking Diggory in the stomach. "Now my compatriot and I just wanted to discuss this tricky fighting class business to you. We think, if you'd just take a moment to look at it from our perspective-"

"Your _perspective_, as you put it, would have me acting the blind sycophantic **puppet **to the old codger Lord Selwyn." Lux cut him off coldly, regaining his calm mask. "I did not bow to the Dark Lord as my Master, nor will I to Albus Dumbledore." He spat the Headmaster's name as if it was a curse.

Amos drew himself up self-righteously and blustered, "Albus Dumbledore is a great man, and a well respected leader. How _dare _you compare him to You-Know-Who?"

Lux laughed harshly, jeering, "Can't even say the name, can you? Voldemort was just a man, like you and me. You idiots feared him so much that you _still _are unable to even utter his name, even though the maniac is dead! Thisis exactly why a fighting class is _necessary _you dimwits!" Breathing in deeply through his nose, he glared once more at the suitably cowed pair in front of him, before waving them away. Bowing slightly, the two scuttled gratefully away, looking terrifiedly back at the tremendously powerful man they had just pissed off.

Rubbing his forehead with a clenched fist, Lux sighed, clearing his head with a shake. Looking around for something to distract him, he caught sight of the exhausted woman leaning back in her chair above him, and grinned.

* * *

Amelia sighed wearily, sitting heavily in her seat as she pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and pointer finger. It had been a long day, but they had accomplished their goal. Startled at the sound of a muffled thump, Amelia looked up to see the leather-clothed Lux sitting on the banister in front of her, swinging his feet and humming lightly as he smiled beatifically.

"Why so glum Amelia?" Lux teased, cocking his head to the side as he looked down at her. "After all, we got the class didn't we?"

"Hmm, yes." Madam Bones mumbled, massaging her temples. Waving a hand, she murmured, "You'd best get going before he notices your absence. I'll send you a letter with the Headmaster's reaction as soon as I get it."

Nodding once and patting the worn-out woman on the shoulder, Lux slid off the railing and sauntered towards the door, still humming under his breath as he swung his black and emerald cloak over his shoulders.

"Oh, by the way." Amelia called after him, looking cautiously around to see if anyone could overhear. "Good luck Harry." And with one last wink of his eyes, now a vivid emerald, he apparated away.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, quietly mulling on the state of the world over a glass of iced firewhiskey. The wood shelves mounted on the stone walls were littered with various moving and spinning silver objects, whirring and clicking quietly in the otherwise still room. Over his half-moon spectacles, the Headmaster stared out at Hogwarts' grounds, enjoying the moment of peace. Peace that –or at least, he felt– he had well earned. Nodding once as he affirmed all was well, he turned to his office, frowning slightly as he realized that the wooden stand beside the door was, once again, empty. The ethereally flame colored bird that usually perched upon it, his phoenix and faithful familiar Fawkes, had become increasingly absent over the past years. Now, Albus was lucky to see him _maybe _once a month, not including the phoenix's burning days.

Sighing lightly, he let his eyes roam over the rest of his office, noticing with satisfaction that all of his spinning and whirring instruments were working properly. _No thanks to young Harry_, he thought mildly, remembering how the boy had destroyed most of his office the year before in his rage. His frown deepened as he recalled the crushing magical power that had flowed off the young Gryffindor in waves. The block Albus had placed on his core sixteen years ago should have prevented any magical outbursts of that power. _Perhaps it is time to renew the barrier, _he considered, but shook his head. _No, it could not have eroded in such a short time… it is more likely that his extreme emotions produced some sort of accidental magic. _It was unusual, but not unheard of, for adult wizards or witches to produce occasional bursts of inadvertent magic if their emotions were strong enough.

Satisfied with that explanation, the Headmaster turned to his desk, eyeing the various papers littering the surface wearily. He had just dipped his rather extravagant golden eagle-feather quill into his inkpot, bracing himself for the tedious process, when the fire crackling merrily away in the corner flared a bright iridescent green. Suppressing a thankful glance heavenward, Albus placed his quill in the inkwell at turned towards the fireplace with his grandfatherly smile firmly in place, relieved for the unwitting intervention between him and piles of dreary parchment.

That relief would not last for long. A neutral-faced middle aged wizard stepped calmly out of the flickering jade flames, bearing the Ministry's crest on his otherwise plain black robes. Lifting a puzzled eyebrow, Albus asked "Can I help you my boy?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore." The Ministry wizard said with a curt bow of his head. "I have something for you, from the Minister." Reaching into a satchel at his side, he pulled out a scroll tied with a plum ribbon and a drop of gold wax. Albus frowned slightly as he recognized the Wizengamot's seal, the way they fastened all their administrative documents. _Why wasn't I notified that there was official business? _Dumbledore wondered inwardly. The messenger cleared his throat and Albus looked up, realizing he had been lost in thought.

"Ah, yes my boy? Was there anything else?" The Headmaster asked pleasantly.

"The minister also instructed me to inform you that she requests that you read the missive immediately, and that I wait here to take back any messages you might have for her." The unknown wizard replied, moving to stand unobtrusively by the door with his hands clasped patiently behind him in standard parade rest.

Albus raised an eyebrow once again, momentarily considering the man's rather abrupt attitude. The normal reaction to being in the Headmaster's presence was rather blind sycophantic idolism combined with various stuttered variations of '_It's such an honor' _and '_can't believe I'm actually', _etc. Shrugging inwardly, he carefully untied the red-violet ribbon with –though he would never admit to it– a strong sense of trepidation that made his hands to shake the barest amount. Mentally berating himself but unable to do anything to cease trembling, he slipped a delicate silver knife under the wax seal.

Pulling the tightly rolled scroll taught, the Headmaster pushed his spectacles up his rather long nose, holding them there as he attempted to read the looping writing.

_Albus Dumbledore, Esteemed Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Greetings._

_We of the Wizengamot, in agreement with Madam Amelia Bones, Minister of Magic, dictate this letter. On this day of August 5__th__, the Wizengamot and Minister convened to discuss a matter pertaining to both you and your establishment. Minister Bones petitioned the assembly to adjust the curriculum of Hogwarts in order to include a physical fighting and defense class. While we would not normally have any authority with which to do this, in accordance with the Hogwarts Charter written by the four founders of Hogwarts during the time of it's origin, if given the permission of a founder's heir we __**do**__ have the ability. Thus, with the consent of said heir –who's identity will not be disclosed at this time –we decree that the class __**will **__be instated before Sept. 1 and the beginning of this coming school year. Two teachers have already been chosen, and await your letter to inform them of your arrangements. If you fail to comply with these terms and in the absence of the Board of Governors, you will be suspended from your position as Headmaster pending a full inquiry._

_Cordially,_

_The Venerated Body of the Wizengamot and Amelia Bones, Minister of Magic._

As his eyes swept down the curling lines of ink and he took in the coldly formal words, Albus struggled to maintain his genial mask in front of the stoic Ministry wizard standing discreetly in the corner of his office. Inwardly, he was clenching his teeth to avoid hexing something as he shook with rage. _How dare she! _He hissed mentally. Amelia had come to him several times requesting this, but he had never imagined that she would go behind his back and find a way to push the class through. To be honest, he didn't know there _was _a way.

And this founder's heir business! As far as he knew, the last heir was Riddle, and he was dead! The only other heir was…

Harry. _Could the boy have done this?_ Standing quickly, Albus strode over to one of the strange silver instruments clicking away on a chest high shelf. Leaning in close with his long nose practically brushing one of the orbs dancing along a looping track, he examined it for a moment before nodding in satisfaction. There had been no change for some time now. _Besides, the boy trusts me above all else. _Albus thought smugly as he suppressed a triumphant smirk, thoroughly pleased with his control over his weapon.

The Ministry wizard –whom Albus had momentarily forgotten in his brief moment of panic –cleared his throat loudly, prompting the Headmaster to jump slightly in surprise. Raising an eyebrow, the unknown man asked, "Headmaster, would you like to send a reply, or shall I simply return to the Ministry with your consent?"

Scowling inwardly at what he perceived as impertinence, Albus smiled lightly, waving the man towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Please, sit, sit. Of course my boy, I'll draft a letter to Amelia immediately. Would you care for a lemon drop?" He asked, lifting the silver tin brimming with bright yellow spheres. Shrugging as the man declined, he retrieved his quill from the inkwell, pulling a leaf of parchment towards him and scribbling quickly across its rough surface.

Dotting the last period after his rather lengthy name with a quite a bit more vehemence than necessary, he deftly rolled the letter into a tight scroll, tying it with a ribbon conjured with a quick flick of his wand. Passing it to the waiting messenger with a slight bow, Albus was rewarded with a curt nod before the Ministry wizard turned, stepped into the crackling green flames, and disappeared. The Headmaster watched him go, waiting for a few seconds before following his path towards the fireplace. Grabbing a handful of floo powder from the copper bowl on his mantle and throwing it into the crackling blaze, he stuck his head through, shouting; "Amos!"

* * *

Harry lay on the hardwood floors of his bedroom, drawing looping designs absently across the polished surface with one of his claws. A dull buzzing sound rang from the alarm placed on his nightstand and he shot to his feet with a grin, unglamoured triangular black ears flicking forward and white-tipped tail twitching excitedly. Yanking the calendar –with September 1st circled in glaring red ink –off of the wall and throwing it into the trunk resting by the open door, he slammed the lid and shrunk the large wooden chest down to the size of a matchbox with a simple wave of his wand. Tucking the holly rod into an invisible dragonhide wand holster tied about his wrist, he swirled a cloak over his shoulders with a flourish, dropping the miniature trunk into one of the many inner pockets sewn into the lining.

Raising his fingers to his lips, Harry let out a piercing whistle, holding his arm out with an expectant expression. With a soft hoot and a rustle of wintry patterned feathers, Hedwig flew gracefully through the still open window to settle on his arm, nipping Harry's ear affectionately. "Alright there girl?" He asked softly, raising a hand to stroke the downy feathers on her chest. Nibbling his finger, the snowy owl hooted an affirmative. "Well, time to head off for old hoggy Hogwarts again, eh girl? Off to see Bumblydore!" Harry chirped blithely; face twisting into a grimace at the mention of the Headmaster. Hedwig seemed to agree with that sentiment, uttering a rather rude sounding noise that perfectly conveyed her contempt for the elderly wizard.

"Sure you'll be alright flying there, or would you rather I carry you in the cage?" Harry asked idly as he waved a clawed hand to recast his glamours. Gently nuzzling her head against her Master's for a moment, Hedwig flew back out the window as her answer. Shrugging wryly, Harry practically bounced out the doorway, being as loud as possible in order to irritate his relatives one last time.

Now you might be wondering why Harry was even staying with Vernon and Co. since, as he was now seventeen, he was technically free to leave. However, in order to placate the Headmaster and lead him further into believing that his weapon was firmly under his control, Harry had opted to stay at the Dursleys to the start of term instead of going to stay at Grimmauld Place with Sirius and Remus.

Clattering noisily down the stairs he threw open the front door, dancing happily out into the bright September sun. He waved cheekily to the scowling Petunia who was watching through the kitchen window, then turned and jauntily saluted his Order guard (Tonks) before reaching for his wand. While he technically no longer needed his wand, Harry wasn't quite used to his wandless magic yet. And besides, he wasn't going to be able to use his newfound skill in public; he had to keep up appearances. With a last glance towards his summer home for the past seventeen years, he smirked and, with a sharp twist and an almost silent pop, apparated away.

****

"BLOODY BUGGERING-!" Harry shouted, his cries muffled in the tile floor his face was buried into. "I HATE MAGICAL TRAVEL!" Pushing himself easily onto his feet, Harry looked around at the incredulous expressions of the other witches and wizards of various ages gather around him. "What?" The crowd shook their heads in astonishment, seemingly rather shocked that their Savior would act so ungainly. They whispered behind their hands, pointing at him conspicuously and staring at his scar, oblivious to his irritated glares.

Annoyed at all the attention, Harry turned to take in the sight of the familiar scarlet-red steam engine resting on the tracks. Platform 9 ¾ was bustling with Hogwarts students of all ages pushing carts loaded with trunks and screeching owls, shepherded about by anxious and harried looking parents. Excited first years were being ushered onto to the train by their parents, yelling goodbyes and shaky reassurances. Friends called out greetings over the dull roar that was the chattering multitude, slapping each other on the back and bantering. Harry smiled wryly, stepping aboard the train and weaving down the crowded corridor to his standard compartment.

Settling in and pulling the entrance shut against the cacophony of sounds, he leaned against the padded seats, looking out through the window at the sea of people. He noted some familiar faces among the throng; Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, two of his dorm-mates, stood side-by-side chattering with their parents. Susan Bones was waving a last goodbye to her aunt, Amelia, carrying a grey kitten in one arm. Terry Boot, a seventh year Ravenclaw, stood in a circle with some of his housemates whom Harry didn't recognize.

Harry was drawn from his observation of the crowd by the sound of the door sliding open. Turning around, he smiled softly at the aristocratic boy framed in the door way. "Hey Drake, come on in." He patted the seat beside him with an expectant expression, frowning when the boy shook his head.

"Sorry Angel, but I've got a better plan." Draco responded, peeking his head out to see if anyone had seen him before shutting the door and casting a strong locking charm on it. Leaning against the hard wood, arms crossed, he explained, "I want to _really _make a bang."

Grinning, Harry asked, "Come into the Great Hall together then?" Draco nodded. "Today, or tomorrow?"

"I'm thinking tomorrow." The blonde said, stroking his chin with a thoughtful expression. "Everyone's all riled up today; it won't get the proper response. They'll be too focused on the sorting and it being the first day and all." He waved a hand airily, the gears in his mind turning as he calculated the likely reaction their friendship was going to receive.

"We'll have to meet later to plan it out." Harry deliberated, brow furrowed. "Your common room or mine?"

"Mine." Draco chose, then threw the younger boy a smirk. "Gryffindorks couldn't keep a secret if you paid them."

Sticking his tongue out childishly, Harry couldn't help but agree with the blonde. His housemates were not known for their efficiency with secrecy, their hot tempers making them annoyingly liable to shout sensitive information at the top of their lungs at unfortunate moments. "Alright. I know Blaise already knows, but does anyone else?"

Scratching his head, the younger Malfoy thought for a moment before replying, "Theo does, but I think that's everyone. You?"

"Just Fred and George." Harry responded, shrugging. "I wasn't quite sure who I could trust for a while, and then there wasn't ever a safe room without Dumbles' spies for me to tell them."

"Well you'd best prepare 'em, unless you want them to get the shock of their lives." Draco warned, winking cheekily. Breaking the locking charm with a twist of his wand, he said, "Slytherin dungeons after dinner. See ya Angel," and slipped out the door.

Not a minute later, there was a sharp nock on the wood before the panel slid open once again. Neville and Luna walked into the compartment, clasped hands swinging between them.

"Nev, Luna!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up to pull the pair into a hug. "You finally got together!"

The couple blushed, looking lovingly at each other before smiling sheepishly. "Don't know what you're talking about." Neville mumbled, while Luna just adopted her usual dreamy expression, looking at her boyfriend fondly.

"The Flumdigets nesting in his hair chose another host, so he's not as confused now." Luna told Harry in a conspiratorial whisper, waving her hand airily somewhat at the vicinity of Neville's head, accompanied by Harry's genial nod with a raised eyebrow the only sign of his confusion. After a few years having known the imaginative 6th year, Harry was pretty much immune to her seemingly, erm, rather _eccentric_ tendencies. But he wasn't fooled by her quirky exterior; Harry firmly believed that she just saw things that others couldn't.

Plopping back down into his seat by the window he waved them onto the bench across from him, beaming brilliantly. Looking at the bright grin, Neville started, leaning in to peer closer. "Uh, Harry?" He began nervously.

Smile faltering, Harry asked, "Yeah Nev?"

"Er, if you don't mind me asking, have you been bitten by a vampire recently?" The Longbottom heir queried hesitantly.

"Uh, no?" Harry's response ended with a question, voice becoming higher as he looked at his friend as if the larger boy wasn't quite right in the head. "Whyyyy?" He asked, drawing the word out.

Shakily, Neville responded, "R- right. Er, it- it's just your, ah, teeth are looking a li- little… _sharp _there_."_ He looked to Luna for help, but the spritely blonde just blinked at him with an airy smile.

Clapping a hand to his mouth, Harry fingered the sharp points; his unglamoured fangs. In his rush to finally get out of the Dursleys' house, he'd cast a glamour over all of his new features… except one. The gleaming bestial fangs, two upper and two lower, had been left exposed. Luckily, they were the least likely to be seen. Unluckily, Neville and Luna _had _seen them. Hissing a vibrant curse that had Neville blushing and Luna coughing to hide a giggle, Harry waved a hand over his mouth, teeth shimmering before fading into normal teeth, if a slight bit longer and pointer than normal.

"Harry what-?" Neville began, but Harry cut him off.

"Not now!" He hissed, glancing warily towards the flimsy door. Underneath the glamour, his black cat ears were flicking to and fro, easily picking up the sounds of footsteps and chatter from outside the entrance to their compartment. "There's too big a chance that someone will hear or walk in."

Luna just nodded seriously, commenting, "Oh yes, the Wrackspurts have a bad habit of listening to peoples' conversations; it's how they find good minds to confuse." Blinking mutely at his girlfriend, Neville slowly settled back into his seat, shifting his eyes to fix them contemplatively on Harry.

For a few moments, they sat noiselessly, the two males mutely deliberating and Luna humming slightly off-key under her breath. Finally, Harry asked Neville what he'd thought of the game between the Ballycastle Bats and the Wimborne Wasps. Ron had mentioned it in one of the predictably short letters he'd sent Harry over the summer, somewhere in between his new broom and how awesome it was to be famous. The two boys talked amicably about Quidditch for a while, with Luna adding in a quirky comment here and there, before the door slid open once again.

"Hey Ron." Harry greeted, falsely chipper.

"Harry, Neville… Lovegood." Ron replied with barely veiled boredom. The gangly redhead stepped arrogantly through the doorway and plopped into his seat with no more than his cursory greeting, a smug look on his face. Ever since the 'final battle', as the wizarding world called it, the Weasleys had been doing better financially than they had the past hundred years. Their income, what with Arthur being promoted to the head of his division and Ron's status as 'the best friend of the savior', had experience a considerable jump.

Harry knew that Dumbledore had been giving the Weasleys money out of the Potter vaults since before he'd even started Hogwarts. He suspected that the Headmaster had told the family that it was from Albus' vaults, for service in the war, and that most of the Weasleys had no idea that the money had come from Harry himself. Ron and Ginny however, were another story. Ragnok had informed him that the two youngest Weasley children had been provided with personal vaults the year before Harry first stepped foot into the wizarding world. Both Ron and Ginny were provided a monthly allowance of around a thousand galleons; meaning each had been paid around 84,000 galleons out of Harry's accounts.

Harry had experienced quite a row with Ragnok over how that was even possible. The goblin replied that the Headmaster claimed to be Harry's magical guardian, and thus had control over his assets until Harry's coming of age. Not having known what a magical guardian was, let alone that he _had _one, the Director of Gringotts had explained rather lengthily on the matter.

***Flashback***

"_A Magical Guardian?" Harry asked, confused. "What's that?"_

_Seeing that Ragnok looked rather affronted at the question, Harry hastily began apologizing; fearing that he'd insulted the goblin. But the Managing Director waved him off, saying, "I'm not offended with __**you **__child. Rather, that the Headmaster did not tell you. As your magical guardian, it is his duty to inform you of his status; if he __**is **__in fact your guardian."_

_Throwing his hands in the air, Harry exclaimed, "The man never tells me anything!" fisting his hands in his hair and tugging. "Wait a minute-" He started, the rest of the Goblin's sentence sinking in. "What do you mean __**if?"**_

_Ragnok sighed, a guilty expression on his face. "When Headmaster Dumbledore first came to the bank to inspect your accounts, we asked him what grounds he had to do so. He replied that he was your magical guardian. However, he did not show the paperwork that backed his claim. And even though it is against protocol, the Goblin Teller that was dealing with the Headmaster did not ask to __**see**__ said paperwork, merely accepting the man's word. Apparently he did not see a need to."_

_Pinching the bridge of his long nose between two spindly fingers, the goblin said wearily, "The goblin was reprimanded, but we did not correct the error and ask for proof… But I am beginning to believe that the Headmaster was not truthful in his claims…"_

"_Is there any way we can find out?" Harry asked, running a hand through his hair tiredly. "A- A record or something?"_

_The goblin hummed, turning to a filing cabinet on the wall behind his desk. Opening a drawer and rifling through the various folders, he 'ah ha'ed triumphantly, pulling a thick file out with a flourish. Laying it on his desk and flipping through, Ragnok leaned in, long nose almost brushing the parchment. "Ah, here we are." He exclaimed, retrieving an official looking sheaf of papers and placing it in front of him. Placing spectacles upon his nose, Ragnok ran a finger under the lines of ink as he read, lips moving silently. Reaching the end, he sighed emphatically, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his domed forehead jadedly._

"_Er, Ragnok?" Harry hedged, watching the weary Goblin with concern._

_Startled, Ragnok looked up, seeming to have forgotten that he was not alone. "I am sorry Master Pot- er, Harry." He said, gazing at the black-haired teen solemnly. "I was, as the muggles say it, off in my own world."_

_Leaning forward and folding his hands on the desk in front of him, the Goblin continued, waving a hand at the paper he'd just been reading, "This is a copy of the will of one Mr. Sirius Black, your godfather. While Lord Black is not dead, and we would not normally open his will until the time of his death, I had a sneaking suspicion it would be necessary. Now, as you know your parents' Will went missing shortly after their death." Harry nodded, the Managing Director having told him that when the teen brought it up some time ago. "In that will they would have named your guardians in the case of their death, but as we have no copy of it, you were placed with your relatives by the Headmaster. If he was your magical guardian as he claimed, he had every right to choose your living quarters in the event that he did not want to or could not take care of you himself."_

_Looking seriously over his glasses, Ragnok went on, "However, in Lord Black's will, he states that __**he **__is your magical guardian as named by your parents before their death. And, though he was in Azkaban prison for 12 years, that status was never changed. He was, and __**is, **__your guardian, __**not **__the Headmaster."_

_Ragnok sat back, a frown wrinkling his already creased face. "As such the Headmaster has been making illegal transactions by removing gold from your vault for young Mr. and Ms. Weasley's allowances, as well as the family's yearly allowance. There have also been numerous times that Headmaster Dumbledore removed large sums from the Potter accounts to fund an organization he called 'The Order of the Phoenix.'" _

"_Formally, I apologize for this transgression Mr. Potter." Ragnok intoned, standing and bowing from the waist before regaining his seat. "Not only is this an affront to you, but to myself and this establishment. The Headmaster __**should not **__have been able to steal from you or this bank, and he __**will **__pay for his actions."_

***End Flashback***

Technically, the sums that the Headmaster had pulled from the Potter vaults hadn't even made a dent in his fortune. The Potters were an old family, with centuries of accumulated wealth constantly gathering interests in the bank. And that wasn't even including the Slytherin fortune that Harry had inherited. Still, the fact that the Headmaster was removing money from his vaults illegally only bolstered Harry's mistrust and hatred of the man.

But, in order to keep up appearances, Harry had allowed Albus to continue paying the various Weasleys their allowances. The next month, in another meeting with Ragnok, Harry found out that the Headmaster had been paying not only Ron and Ginny, but Hermione as well. The bushy-haired Gryffindor had been receiving money from the Headmaster since their second year at Hogwarts.

Hermione's infidelity had hit him harder than the rest. While Harry had considered Ron and Ginny good company and friends, Hermione had become like a sister to him. Hurt and betrayed, he'd confronted the girl about it just months before his final battle with Voldemort.

***Flashback***

_Closing the door with a sharp click and throwing several strong locking and silencing charms on it, Harry rounded on Hermione with a thunderous expression. "How could you?" Tears in his eyes, his voice was cracked, broken, full of the betrayal he felt._

_She just looked at him confusedly, raising an eyebrow. "How could I what? Harry, what's going on? Are you alright?" Hermione asked, expression full of concern._

"_Don't give me that crap." Harry spat. "You know bloody well what! Spying on me for Dumbledore, the bloody buggering old coot! How much is he paying you, hmm?" _

_Hermione reared back as if she were slapped. "What? __**Spying? **__Harry, what are you talking about?"_

_Harry got right in front of her, glaring up into her face. "You, Ron and Ginny, reporting to the Headmaster about every bloody thing I do! Accepting money from him to tail me every freaking second of my life! You-!" He cut himself off, looking up into her brown eyes. The gentle sienna orbs were murky, covered in a cloudy blue film. "Oh 'Mione…" Harry breathed, recognizing the signs of a compulsion charm. Reaching up to brush a curl of hair out of her face, he whispered, "What has he done to you?"_

"_Harry, please, you're scaring me!" Hermione pleaded, eyes darting to and fro between his two emerald orbs._

_Smiling sadly, he softly asked, "'Mione, do you trust me?" The girl nodded jerkily, freezing when he pointed his wand at her. _

"_Harry, what-?" She began, but he cut her off._

"_Just trust me 'Mione. Close your eyes, I'm not gonna hurt you." He murmured, waiting until her eyelids slid shut. Flicking his wand, he spoke a soft counter-charm, watching as the sparkling blue light encompassed Hermione's still form._

_Slowly, the glow faded, and Hermione was revealed, face haunted. "He- I, wh- what…" She stuttered, hands fluttering and eyes flitting about before landing on Harry. Gentle brown orbs brimming with tears, she whispered brokenly, "How could he?"_

_Gathering the weeping girl into his arms and pulling her into a chair, Harry petted her curly brown hair calmingly, rocking her gently from side to side. "Oh Harry," Hermione sobbed, clutching him desperately, "I'm s- so s- sorry! He- he made me w-watch you a- and put your money in m- my v- vault! H- He…"_

"_Shh 'Mione…" Harry soothed, tipping her chin up until she met his eyes. "It's not your fault! Dumbledore put a compulsion charm on you, you couldn't help it!"_

"_W- Why?" Hermione wailed, eyes wild and hair flying out of its constrained bun. "Everyone says he's s- such a g- good man, everyone always b- believes that! __**I **__always b- believed that!"_

_Sighing, Harry explained grimly, "Well everyone's wrong, aren't they? He believes what he does is right, that it's for 'the greater good'. But in doing so, he plays people like pawns for his own gain. He thinks he has the right to control our lives." He buried his face in Hermione's hair. "To control __**my **__life." He whispered, voice carrying all of his shattered faith in the man he'd once trusted above all else._

"_Oh Harry." Hermione murmured, sitting up and hugging him to her chest, their positions reversed. "He's hurt you the most out of all of us, hasn't he? Oh, my little brother, what has he done to you?" She let him sob silently onto her shoulder for a few moments before clasping him against her protectively, eyes fierce. "I won't let that man hurt you anymore. If he thinks he can control you, he'll have to go through me."_

***End Flashback***

Harry and Hermione had become even closer after that, and Harry's anger at the man he once called mentor only grew. Hermione, who had always trusted authority figures implicitly, grew to realize that just because someone was a teacher, an official, etc., didn't mean that they always knew best.

Harry was drawn out of his musings as, with a light knock, the compartment door slid open once again. Looking up the black haired teen smiled gently, thinking ironically, '_Speak of the devil...' _Hermione, wildly curly hair tamed and pulled back in a sleek bun, long legs covered in cut-off shorts and wearing a bright-orange tee, stood in the doorway.

"Hey sis." Harry greeted with a wave and a cheeky wink, popping up to kiss her quickly on the cheek. He glanced over at Ron and coughed to cover a snort. The redhead was staring blatantly at Hermione, eyes glazed and a bit of drool drabbling out the corner of his mouth.

"Hey little brother." Hermione replied, gaze roving over the cabin. "Neville, Luna." She nodded to each of them with a smile, before glaring over at Ronald, barely veiled disgust in her eyes. "Ronald." She sniffed, folding gracefully into a seat next to Harry and ignoring Ron's inevitable jealous tensing. "Ron, I've just come from the prefect's carriage. You're wanted there." She informed the redhead, noting the relieved glint in Harry's eyes.

Shaking his head with a grunt, Ron lurched to his feet, stalking out of the compartment and banging it closed behind him, muttering to himself about '_Bloody boy-who-lived, stealing my girlfriend.'_

Flicking her wand towards the door with a chuckle at Ron's antics, Hermione locked and muffled the compartment, leaning back and crossing her legs with a satisfied air. "There." She exclaimed, nodding emphatically.

Pulling his nose from the Herbology book he'd buried himself in after Ron's arrival, Neville looked at the door for a minute before turning to Harry. "Well, you want to explain now?" The Longbottom heir requested seriously, crossing his arms.

Looking between the two boys, Harry anxious and Neville stern, Hermione asked confusedly, "Explain what? Harry?"

"Heh heh…" Harry hedged, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly… "Well you know how my seventeenth birthday just happened and all?"

Hermione, Neville and Luna nodded slowly, before understanding dawned on Neville's face. "Of course, your magical inheritance!"

"Did something big happen to you Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly, hands fluttering over Harry's body, as if to check for injuries.

Blushing, Harry sighed, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees. "Well, it's like this…"

**A.N.; We just had to put my dog, Moet, down because she was getting too old. We've had her for ten years now, since she was 5, and it's hit my family pretty hard. I may not be able to get a chapter up next week, or maybe I'll throw myself into writing to take my mind off things, I don't know. Anyway, if anyone wants an idea as to what Harry/Lux's outfit looks like, the link is http:/ media . photobucket . com / image / anime%20leather / Vendi_girl / Anime / Guys / LeatherBound . jpg**

**To NightKiryuu; **I don't have anything against Diggory, I just needed one or two characters to be antagonistic and idiotic and Diggory was the first name that came to mind.


	11. Chapter 10

**A.N. Aggh! I'm sorry 'bout the wait, but just when I was almost finished wit the chapter, my computer crashed! When I went back to word, there was only around 2 pages saved, and I had to write it all over again! For some reason this chapter was being stubborn and didn't want to come out the way I wanted it to, so it took a while… anyways, hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 10**

Previously; _Blushing, Harry sighed, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees. "Well, it's like this…"_

Harry spent most of the rather lengthy train ride from England to Scotland describing everything that had changed the night of his birthday. Hermione, Neville and Luna listened with rapt attention; the perfect audience complete with shocked gasps and incredulous exclamations at the opportune moments. He told his story in a dull monotone, eyes shut and faced closed. The fear of rejection, instilled from the years spent with the Dursleys' emotional abuse and neglect, reared its head.

But aside from the expected disbelief and incredulity, his friends did not reject him. They asked questions, asked him to clarify things or give evidence. For example, when Hermione asked to see his new features. Voice choked in his throat, all Harry could do was nod mutely, gathering magic in his hands to wipe the glamours off one by one.

Black-furred ears pressed back on his head, tail wrapped tightly around his waist like a security blanket, Harry sat in suspenseful silence. Suddenly, arms wrapped tightly around him, bushy hair filling his mouth. "Awwww!" Hermione cooed, holding Harry's face between her hands and turning it from side to side. "You're so cute!" Neville and Luna nodded along, Neville smirking and Luna with her normal dreamy smile.

"Hermioonneeee!" Harry whined, pulling his face back and crossing his arms sulkily. "I am not _cute!" _He protested, lower lip protruding in a childish pout.

The elder girl just shrugged, running a hand through her hair. "Sure you aren't Harry, don't get your panties in a twist." She sat back, giggling. "Still Harry, this is amazing! Do you have any idea how long it has been since anyone in the wizarding world has even _seen _a High Elf? Just think of all the knowledge they could teach us, all the spe-!"

"Yes 'Mione, I'm sure that, whenever Harry and them actually _find _the others, they'll have plenty of new things for you to learn." Neville cut in sardonically, shaking his head with a raised eyebrow. "She's right about that though Harry. I mean, Merlin, they're Elves! Pureblood children _grow up _on stories of the High Elves!"

"Oh yes, the Elves are very famous." Luna put in brightly. "Almost as famous as the Blithering Humdingers!"

Hermione nodded bemusedly at her, raising an eyebrow, before resting her head on her hand. "Do you think Malf- no, it's Draco now isn't it? Well, do you think Draco would let me ask some questions about his heritage?"

Shaking his head wryly, Harry explained, "I think it's Lucius you'd better ask, he knows more about it from reading his ancestor's journals."

"Speaking of which," Hermione began sternly, crossing her arms. "Harry James Potter, what in Merlin's name possessed you not to mention you and Draco's friendship before this! For Pete's sake, you call his father _Uncle! _Draco is practically your _blood-brother! _Why didn't you tell us?" She reached out to swat him over the head, voice harsh and face like thunder.

Harry ducked his head, rubbing the afflicted area guiltily with a hand. "I'm sorry 'Mione, but we only just broke the compulsion charm, and there was never a time to tell you without Ron or Ginny in the room!"

"Oh." Hermione blushed sheepishly, brushing a hand through her long brown curls. "Erm… Right. Uh… So, er, Nice cloak Harry." Awkwardly, she turned to the wall, looking out the window contemplatively. "Speaking of which, we'd best be putting our robes on; we're getting close to Hogwarts." She warned, pulling a shrunken package from a pocket of her shorts. Neville followed suit, while Luna –who couldn't do magic outside of school yet –reached up to retrieve her trunk from the upper racks. Harry, who'd already changed into his school robes before apparating to the station, just watched them with a smile, grateful for their easy acceptance of him.

_I'm glad I have such good friends… _He thought to himself, smiling wider as he heard Kaen's mental agreement.

Slowly, the train screeched to a halt, smoke billowing out into the lantern-lit night. Waving a hand to recast his glamours and tear the wards from the door, Harry led his friends down the corridor and out one of the many exits onto the platform where Hagrid and the carriages waited. "Hey Hagrid!" Harry shouted, waving his arms above his head.

"'Ow ya doin' there 'arry? Glad ta see ya back!" Hagrid boomed in return, clapping him on the back with a saucer sized hand with enough force to down a horse. "'Ermione, Neville, Lovegood." He greeted with a nod, before waving them to the carriages. "Ya'd best be getting' up ta the school now, feast's a waitin'."

Nodding, the group trotted over to the carriages, chatting about what they expected to happen that year. Greeting the Thestrals with a pat on the snout, the trio stepped into the carriages, settling in before they started off with a jolt. The coach trundled along the beaten pat between the trees as Harry and his friends laughed and joked, bouncing playful banter between them.

As the carriage lurched to a stop outside the gates into Hogwarts and the four friends began their trek up to the doors, Neville wondered aloud, "Hey, where do you think Ron went anyway? The prefects couldn't have wanted him for that long, seeing as he's not technically one of them or anything."

Harry shrugged, replying, "Dunno. Didn't see Ginny either. They must have just wandered off after they couldn't get into the compartment. Maybe Ron was with some of his 'adoring fans'." He said with a snort, then paused. "Hey, who _are _the Head Boy and Head Girl this year anyways?" He looked questioningly over at Hermione, Neville and Luna, noticing a dark blush on the brunet girl's cheeks. "Hermione?"

Ducking her head sheepishly, the tall seventh year pulled a polished silver badge from a pocket in her robes, the bold letters HG embossed upon the surface. Throwing an arm over her shoulder, Harry exclaimed, "Well 'Mione, I can't say I'm surprised. Always knew ya had it in ya!"

"Shoulda known." Neville stated sardonically, shaking his head with a wry grin. "Our Hermione, always top of everything eh?"

"Indeed." Luna agreed, nodding her head and looking like she'd known all along –which, in retrospect, probably wasn't too far from the truth. What was there that the flighty blonde _didn't _know?

Sniffing haughtily with her best pompous air, Hermione replied, "I'm sure I don't have any idea what you're talking about." Stalking away towards the castle, she stopped for a moment to glare back at Harry, Neville and Luna who had dissolved into laughter at her perfect impression of a stuck-up pureblood. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Nothin' Mione." Harry chirped, bounding excitedly over to where she stood in front of the doors. "'Lo old girl." He greeted, looking fondly up at the castle. Feeling a telepathic brush on his mental shields, he opened the blocks with a smile, recognizing the familiar feel of the castle that had been his home for six, now seven, years.

Hogwarts itself, despite being sentient, didn't communicate with words. Rather, it spoke with vague pictures and emotions. As a Harry rested a hand on the great oaken doors, bold feelings flooded his mind.

_Joy. Warmth. _

'**Hello again old girl.' **Harry sent back, ignoring the questioning looks he was receiving from his friends and the assorted students of various ages walking up to the doors.

_Greeting._

'**Nice to be back again, though I have a feeling it might not last.' **The green-eyed young man thought fatalistically, imagining the reaction if the public found out about Kaen and his mutant status.

_Confusion. _A brief feeling of a gentle presence inspecting his surface thoughts, searching for the reasoning behind his dejected words. Then; _Realization. Acceptance. Worry._

'**It's alright girl, I'm here for now.' **Harry reassured, gently stroking the wood of the doors with his hand, carefully retracting his claws underneath the glamour so as not to scratch the lovingly polished oak.

_Possessive. Protective. _

'**I'm not sure my mate will agree with that possessive part, eh?' **He thought, then froze. '_My… mate?' _He pondered, a slow smile spreading across his face. '_That's… that's the first time I've said, er, thought that… I like it.'_

_Agreement. Impatience._

Chuckling wryly, Harry pushed the door open with a loud creak of the hinges. **'As you wish, my Lady.'** He quipped with a mental bow, walking across the entrance foyer before practically bouncing into the great hall.

The giant room was the same as ever; polished marble floors, high ceiling reflecting the image of the night sky above, and the house tables neatly arranged before the staff table that sat on a raised dais in the front. Lit candles floated about, and chattering filled the air. His year-mates from various houses called out greetings as Harry, Neville and Hermione trotted over to the Gryffindor table, waving goodbye to Luna as they went.

Plopping down on one of the rough wooden benches, Harry looked over the hall, noting the changes to the staff and students. He noticed Ron sitting with Dean and Seamus halfway down the table from them, and shrugged, not mourning the change of placement. Ginny as well was absent from there grouping, surrounded by her chattering year-mates further on.

Waving exuberantly to Remus, who was returning to the Defense position that year, and Severus, who appeared to be rather concerned about something, Harry ran his gaze over the table. Dumbledore, long white beard, half-moon glasses and all, sat in the high-backed chair at the center of the table, grinning benevolently down at the assorted students. Raising his eyebrow, he realized that Hooch was missing, and two empty chairs had been set in her place. Shrugging mentally and continuing his examination, his eyes stopped at three extra seats placed at the left end. Smirking inwardly, he thought, '_Must be for the new fighting teachers. I wonder why they aren't here yet.''_

Hermione regained his attention with a tap on his shoulder. "What was that?" She asked in a confused voice.

Harry blinked up at her innocently, replying, "What was what?"

"Prat." The elder girl insulted fondly, whacking him lightly on the shoulder. "That stuff with the doors!"

"Yeah," Neville put in, leaning over from where he sat across from them, "it almost looked like you were, ya know, _talking _to the castle."

Grinning smugly, Harry replied nonchalantly, "I was."

Hermione and Neville's faces blanked for a moment, gradually turning incredulous. "You… were?"

Harry just hummed agreeably, eyes still roving over the rest of the great hall. When his friends started to inquire further, he waved them off, mouthing '_Later.' _They nodded skeptically, looking back to their empty polished gold plates, then up at the Headmaster when he clapped his hands loudly for attention.

"Professor McGonagall," He called loudly, "if you could bring in the first years?"

With a bang the great wooden doors flew open and the first years trotted through in a straggling line, headed by the stern-faced Transfiguration Professor. All of the eleven year olds had, frankly, terrified looks on their faces, eyes flitting around nervously. Harry looked bemusedly over at them, muttering, "Was I really that small?" to himself and ignoring his friends' snickers at the incredulous remark.

As the last first year stumbled into the hall, Filch followed them in, carrying the tell-tale three-legged stool and ragged hat. Placing the stool before the staff table and the hat upon the stool, the caretaker bowed and receded into the shadows. For a moment, the hall was silent, the older students with expectant expressions –curious to see what the hat would sing that year –and the new first years staring at the hat in trepidation. Finally, a rip near the brim of the worn headgear opened, and it began to sing.

_Remember this in all your years;_

_The world is skewed in regimes_

_Left is right and black is white_

_And nothing is as it seems._

_In times of old, in forests far_

_In misty glens and fields_

_A song was made, a song was played_

_A prophecy was sealed._

_Ye wizards and witches, ye nobles and thieves_

_Ye Lords of Darkness and Day_

_A creature of light, a creature of night_

_A creature of hunter and prey._

_The subjects of magic in realms unseen_

_From earthen rivers and stone_

_The Queen's only child, the Prince of the wild_

_To sit on Magic's throne._

_The native of wind, the Heir of fire_

_The Prince of water and earth_

_A wizard became, a royal by name_

_The childe of magic by birth._

Dull chatter filled the hall as the students –and teachers –mulled over what the song could mean. Normally, the old sorting hat sang only of matters pertaining to the school, but the worn headgear hadn't even _mentioned _Hogwarts, let alone any of the houses. Even Severus and Minerva, who normally either attempted (in the Transfiguration Professor's case) or succeeded (in the Potion Master's) to show no emotion in front of their students unless absolutely necessary, held nonplussed expressions.

Harry, however, was quaking as he met Draco's mercury eyes from across the hall, his own emerald orbs wide. He knew the hat was talking about him; it was too specific to be a coincidence. _How did the hat find out? Does it know it's me? Did it tell Dumbledore? _He thought hysterically, searching for the answer in Draco's gaze. But the blonde was just as confused as he was, eyebrows furrowed and concern written all over his face.

They never noticed slanting brown eyes widening incredulously in a dark skinned face that was blanked of all expression, before the sienna orbs filled with the light of hope and a searching stare.

And as Professor McGonagall read out the names from her list, and the owners of said names staggered up to the stool and placed the hat on their heads, waiting to be sorted, Harry tuned them all out. Clapping absentmindedly whenever one of the younger witches or wizards were sorted into Gryffindor, Harry thought frantically, eyes roving over the Headmaster for any sign that the elderly man knew of Harry's changes. But Dumbledore was acting as confused as everyone else. Otherwise, he was as normal as ever; or, as normal as an eccentric, manipulative, fashion-disaster of a wizard could be. He simply smiled down at the young first years being sorted with that ever-present twinkle in his bright blue eyes.

'That bloody twinkle…'Harry grumbled as he tune back in to the sorting, momentarily relieved. The hat didn't seem to have informed the Headmaster of his knowledge.

As "Zimmerman, Natalie," was sorted into Ravenclaw, the Headmaster stood up, nodding regally to Professor McGonagall. Sighing and looking up at Dumbledore, Harry hid a sneer at the grandfatherly look on his wrinkled face. '_Blithering old coot.' _ Harry thought bitterly, resisting the urge to flip the elderly man off. Across from him, Neville made a rude hand-gesture underneath the table, while Hermione struggled to keep her disgruntled look under the pleasant façade on her face.

Spreading his hands wide with a kind smile, the Headmaster began, "Welcome, all, to another year at Hogwarts! As you are all likely anxious to fill your stomachs, I will say only a few words before we begin our new year with the start of term feast."

"First of all, I must inform our new students –and for a few older students, reinforce the knowledge –that the Forbidden Forest is just that; forbidden. Unless accompanied by one of the Professors, you are not to wander into the forest under any circumstances. There are many dangerous creatures living there, and the Centaur herd who call the woods their home can get very temperamental at times.

"Second, our caretaker Mr. Filch has expanded his list of items prohibited in these halls to include all products from the infamous store, 'Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes'. Any students found with these items will be given detention, the length of time depending on the amount of banned items in their possession. The complete list can be found on the door of Mr. Filch's office.

"Now that that's out of the way, you may have noticed some changes and additions to the staff table. First off, I would like you all to welcome back Professor Remus Lupin, who is returning to teach Defense against the Dark Arts to you once again!" As the tawny eyed man stood, those of the students that had had him as a teacher burst into applause, welcoming back the first competent DADA teacher Hogwarts had seen for the past six years. Some of the more prejudiced students grumbled at the presence of a werewolf, but were quickly silenced by their appreciative classmates.

Quieting the students with a wave of his hand, Dumbledore continued. "Second of all, our own Madam Rolanda Hooch, the flying instructor, was offered a position with a professional Quidditch team in Sweden as an assistant. She has accepted, and thus I would like to introduce you to your new flying coaches, Mr.'s Fredrick and George Weasley!"

With a bang, the doors flew open. Casting sparks about them with their wands, the so-called 'devil twins' flew in on brooms, spiraling about each other amid the raucous cheers of the crowd. Touching down before the staff table, the pair swept over-dramatically elegant bows with roguish grins before taking their places between Professors Sinistra and Flitwick.

"Did you know-?" Harry started, turning to Hermione with a wide grin.

"No, they didn't tell me!" Hermione replied, just as excited. The two of them –and Neville –waved enthusiastically at the Weasley twins, who waved back with mischievous smirks. Standing in the corner, Filch looked horrified, while Professor McGonagall had buried her face in her hands, shaking her head wearily.

Giggling happily, Harry thought, '_so __**that's **__what they meant by 'surprise'.'_

Clapping his hands for silence, the Headmaster adopted an affronted look, tone irritated. "And lastly, there is a new addition to the Hogwarts curriculum this year. At the suggestions from Madam Bones and the Wizengamot, I have decided to introduce a fighting class mandatory for third years and up."

The Great Hall exploded into murmurs at the Headmaster's words, friends chattering to each other excitedly or skeptically. From where Harry sat, he could hear Ron boasting loudly, "Fighting class? Pshaw, easy. After all, fought in the war didn't I? Earned my Order of Merlin, first class, didn't I? What can they teach me?"

Shaking his head at his former friend's idiocy, Harry struggled to resist the urge to smirk satisfactorily at the disgruntled Headmaster. The green-eyed teen was displeased that the old codger had made it look like the class was his own idea rather than that the coot was forced into it, but the satisfaction of getting one over on the elderly man overwhelmed any annoyance Harry felt. Doing a victory dance mentally, he grinned at Hermione who was looking at him with a suspicious glint in her warm brown eyes. Sending her an impish smile and wink, Hermione just shook her head wryly, burls bouncing about her face.

Speaking over the crowd, Dumbledore continued, "As you can see, your instructors have not yet arrived. They will be arriving through the floo sometime tomorrow, and you will be introduced to them during your first fighting classes. Now," He said, rubbing his hands together, "let the feast begin!"

Shouts of amazement rang through the hall as the previously empty burnished golden plates and goblets filled to the brims with every type of food and drink. With a tap of his wand, Harry turned the swirling orange pumpkin juice in his glass into rich cream, blushing sheepishly at Hermione's sardonically raised eyebrow. "What?" He asked defensively, sticking his tongue out childishly when she and Neville burst into quiet laughter. "Hmph." He sniffed, taking a long draft of cream and purring quietly, eyes half-lidded in pleasure.

Hermione giggled, daintily picking at the food on her plate, while Neville examined the table for his first helping. The large boy had thinned out during his sixth year, the baby fat receding and leaving only hard muscle in its place. Now, instead of the almost comically round child he had been for the first fifteen years of his life, Neville was a large bear of a man, brawny and barrel chested with a strong jaw and kind brown eyes. He'd also lost most of his shyness, and his self-confidence had improved in leaps and bounds ever since his training before the fall of Voldemort. Alastor Moody himself had offered to teach the Longbottom heir dueling and tactics, coaching the teen over the summer and during his sixth year. Personally, Harry thought that he felt guilty about not being able to save Neville's parents when the Lestranges tortured Alice and Frank –Neville's parents _and _two of Moody's former pupils –to insanity and was repaying them by training their son.

Moody had also offered to train Harry alongside Neville, but the green-eyed teen had declined. Instead, Severus and Lucius had tag teamed to teach the young wizard, using all of their experience as former Death Eaters and current spies to ready Harry for the day he faced Voldemort for the last time. After all, since Dumbledore refused to give the teen any real preparation for killing the dark wizard –preferring instead to simply tell him that the power he had was _love, _and he would know what to do when the time came –_someone _had to give the black-haired at least a fightingchance to stand up to the immensely powerful Dark Lord who was seemingly rather preoccupied with killing him.

Harry had took to the training rather well, progressing faster than either of his teachers had ever seen even in someone so young, nimble, and experienced in life or death situations. Harry assumed his ease of movement had been produced largely because of his cousin's fondness for –as Harry not so affectionately called it –'Harry Hunting'. Years of running from 'Darling Dimply-Duddykins' and his gang of goons had really helped his speed, endurance and agility along. As for the life or death situations part… well, you all know that Harry had an extraordinary penchant getting himself into incidents designed to kill and/or seriously maim himself and others. Most of his friends have made a point of teasing him about it on bi-weekly basis.

Yet despite having mastered hand-to-hand combat, weapons training, and dueling with and without his wand, Harry was still looking forward to the fighting class. It'd be nice to meet others skilled in the trade, and to pick up any advice they might have as older and possibly (though not likely) more experienced fighters. Idly, he thought on how Severus had managed to finally locate someone capable **and **willing to go against the Headmaster without breaking the Statute of Secrecy. Remembering Amelia's message; _Knight found them, a pair with weapons at all, _he wondered why there was a _third_ chair placed at the table instead of just three. '_An assistant maybe?' _He speculated, then shrugged. It didn't really matter after all; whether there were two or three teachers, Hogwarts had finally gotten the fighting class it so desperately needed.

The golden plates filled once again, the remnants of the main course disappearing with a flash and being replaced with desserts and sweets of every kind. Clapping his hands happily and practically bouncing in his seat, Harry snatched a biscuit coated liberally with powdered sugar. Holding it in both hands and nibbling, he purred happily, contentedly licking the sugar from his sticky fingers when the delectable pastry was eventually safely tucked away. Hermione and Neville shook their heads fondly as they each selected one or two dessert items, watching the lithe boy gnaw determinedly on a particularly hard cookie dotted with chocolate chips.

As most of the students sat back, patting their stomachs –or in some of the muggleborns' cases (the purebloods would never be so uncouth) –burping contentedly, the Headmaster stood once again. Spreading his hands, he said, "Well my friends, now that the feast is over it is time to retire to our common rooms. For the first years, your house prefects will show you to your dorms. Now Pip Pip, off you go!"

There was a loud creak as the benches beside the long house tables were pushed back, and the sound of footsteps and chatter filled the air. The prefect pairs for each house gestured enthusiastically to the gaggles of first years, leading them out of the hall towards their respective commons. Waiting until most of the students had stumbled out of the hall, Harry trotted over to the doors, waved to Hermione and Neville, and slid into the shadows towards the Slytherin dungeons.

The door to the Slytherin Common Room was –just like the Gryffindor entrance –a portrait. This was of an elderly wizard in silver robes slumbering in a high-backed chair with two snakes lounging about his shoulders. Smiling, Harry slid seamlessly into Parsletounge with the ease of long practice.

_§Hello again Silandra, Miknis. § _He greeted. The wizard in the painting just continued snoring obliviously, but the two snakes hissed back in unison;

_§Greetings young Master. Are you here to visit the Dragon-child?§_

Chuckling, Harry nodded and replied, _§That I am my friends. Now that the war is over, I will be coming down much more often. We don't have to hide anymore.§_

_§Ah, but young master, you are already hiding.§ _They argued, eyes as emerald as his own narrowed and focused unwaveringly on his face. _§You have the wizard-magic on you. You look the same, yet you have changed. You smell of forests, of the wild. You smell of hunters, and of the sun, the moon and the stars. What are you hiding young Master?§_

'_Bloody hell, by the rate everyone's finding out, the whole __**castle **__will know by noon tomorrow!'_ Sighing, Harry replied, _§I am sorry my friends, but I cannot show you. There is too much of a chance that someone will see, even if they cannot understand our language.§_

Bowing their heads, the serpents relented. _§Of course young Master. Do come to talk to us sometimes, it gets very dreary with only each other for conversation. § _And with that the portrait door swung open, revealing the torch-lit common room. The floors were cool gray stone, covered with thick green carpets before the crackling fire-place. Large grey couches and hard-backed arm chairs with wooden tables were lit by silver wall-sconces, and bookcases and tapestries covered the empty space in between.

Slytherins of various ages lounged about on the chairs and couches, some even stretched out on the rugs or pillows thrown on the floors. All of them had dropped their masks, their faces and voices free and easy as they chattered with their friends. But as the portrait hole creaked open, they sat up straighter, cold façades falling into place. Behind the blank veneer, Harry could see the looks of surprise the Slytherins sported, their eyes all focused on the figure of the Boy-Who-Lived framed in the portrait hole.

The green-eyed teen slipped through the door, eyes mischievously bright underneath wavy black bangs. The shadows cast about the dungeon room curled about his lithe, spritely form, wrapping almost lovingly around his thin shoulders. Quickly, Harry scanned the crowd for the pale-faced aristocrat he had come to visit, frowning slightly when he realized the younger Malfoy was missing. Instead, the common room was filled with suspicious Slytherins of every age, their expressions filled with caution.

You see, most of the school –_including _the Light-sided Slytherins –believed that Harry was still Dumbledore's golden boy. And the pure-blooded children did not trust the headmaster; even when rebelling against the Dark Side and their parents, the Slytherin children had looked to Draco –their unofficially recognized leader –and his father for guidance, not Dumbledore and 'the chosen one.' And by association, they didn't trust the boy-who-lived either.

"Potter?" One of them finally ventured. It was a fifth year by the name of Alexander Litner, the son of two lesser known purebloods who had not been involved in the war, preferring instead to –like the Greengrasses –remain neutral.

Harry nodded to the cold-faced Slytherin, suppressing a giggle at the formality of the situation. "Litner. How is your sister? She's a first year isn't she? A Ravenclaw I believe."

"Indeed she is." Litner replied, eyes shifting to look at the other Slytherins around him. "We always knew she would be. What are you here for Potter?"

Harry just smirked, leaning back against the wall with his hands in his pockets. "Ah, I'm here for a visit. Nothing wrong with that is there?" Looking around contemplatively, he nodded, commenting, "You know, I didn't get a chance to really look around last time I was in the neighborhood. It's a nice place you've got here."

There were several prominent changes to the population of the Slytherin commons. While, as noted many times before, many Slytherins did _not _follow the Dark Lord, _some _did. Those that had followed their parents' footsteps into Voldemort's ranks were absent, most having been either been killed in the last battle or incarcerated in the newly refurbished Azkaban prison. A small number of them had escaped, and were now believed to be hiding somewhere in the country-side with either other Death Eaters or un-marked supporters. For example, Harry's foster-brother's former goons Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were no longer present, both of them being locked up in the minimum-security wing of the prison. They _would _have been rooming with the other Death Eaters in the _maximum_ security wing, but seeing as neither of them could navigate their way out of a paper bag without assistance; the courts judging them hadn't found it necessary.

The students arrayed throughout the serpent den all gawked as –as nonchalant as if he were simply out for a morning stroll –the so called 'Gryffindor golden-boy' surveyed their common room, a secretive smile firmly in place. They all stared at him, mutely, before the silence was broken by a rumbling chuckle emanating from a shadowed corner.

"Really Harry, you couldn't do this without the theatrics? Come now, you're scaring the poor dears." Draco Malfoy, blonde hair styled to perfection and looking every inch the proper aristocrat, stepped from the shadows, arms crossed and smirking at the young boy-wonder. "When you said you were coming to visit, I thought you meant _me, _not every other bloody Slytherin in existence."

Laughing, Harry retorted, "Aww, is wittle Dwaco jealous? Poor ickle Pwince, playmate's wit' someone else now, eh?"

Sniffing haughtily, the blonde replied, "Of course not Potter. I'm just surprised that you would choose to talk to _them _when you could be talking to _me!" _The two boys held the act for a moment longer, enjoying the nonplussed expressions on the surrounding faces, before dissolving into mirth. The pair had to lean their shoulders against each other _and _the wall in order to keep upright, laughter rolling through them and bouncing off the stone walls of the common room.

Sighing, Harry stood up, pulling his arm from around the young half-elf's waist. Cold façade thrown to the winds, he clapped his hands and giggled childishly. Wiping a tear from his eye, he turned to Draco and said, "Well that takes care of this house. Only three more to go."

"You have to admit though, their reaction was better than we thought it would be." Draco replied, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. Waving a hand towards the shell-shocked Slytherins around them, he continued, "I mean, just look at them! That's the most emotion most of them have shown in the presence of a non-Slytherin for most of their lives!"

Chuckling, Harry nodded with a bright grin. "I guess I'm just special that way."

Ruffling the younger teen's black locks fondly with a pale hand, Draco laughed and agreed, "Yes little brother, you are." He ignored the shocked gasps from the surrounding students at the title, pulling Harry's smaller frame into his side with a grin. "C'mon, we can talk more in the dorm. Wouldn't want to give my fellow snakes any more heart-attacks now would we?"

"Awww," Harry pouted, pretending to look sadly around the shadowed common room. "But I was having such _fun_!"

Prodding the young mutant in the general direction of the seventh year dorms, Draco threatened, "I'll tie you up again if I have to. Sev said you weren't allowed to terrorize everyone until _after_ the first week of classes, not before."

Giggling, the younger boy teased, "Why _Draco! _I never knew you were so _kinky!"_

"Shush you," the blonde scolded with a light blush. "You and I both know I didn't mean it like that. But you're a pure-hearted Slytherin, and thus rather odd and not to be trusted."

With a pop, the sorting hat appeared on the top of one of the high-bookcases and yelled pointedly, "See Potter, I'm not the only one!"

"Gah!" Harry shouted, covering his head with his hands and glaring at Draco and the hat. "I'm not letting either of you resort me, so stop it!" He crossed his arms and pouted, glowering at the Slytherins who had been watching the confrontation, their mouths gaping. "What?" He said, tossing his hands in the air exasperatedly before muttering, "Stupid hat, giving away all my secrets…" Harry sent his beast death-glare at the worn piece of headgear that was staring smugly down at him (if a hat _can _be smug…).

Draco waved him in the direction of the dorms, saying, "Go wait in my room, you know where it is. I'll talk to them." He jerked his head at the still gawking purebloods around them. Harry just nodded with a smirk before almost skipping off into the shadows, disappearing as they curled around his form. The younger Malfoy watched him go with a slight smile, before sighing, running his hand through his white-blonde hair, and turning around to 'face the masses' with a raised eyebrow. "Well?"

"D- Draco," one of the sixth year boys stuttered, "W- was that _Potter?"_

"Yes, Norghen, that was Harry." Draco drawled, leaning back to cross one leg over the other, using the wall as support.

"But- but _Potter?"_ Another –this time, a girl – spluttered. At Draco's nonchalant shrug, he practically shrieked, "Draco, he's Dumbledore's _pet! _ What the bloody hell is he doing here?"

Draco opened his mouth to give a sarcastic retort, but was cut off as Harry yelled down the stairs, "Drake, tell them I'm bloody well not Bumblydore's little sheep! I'd rather be a pain in his ass; the old codger just doesn't know it yet!"

Shaking his head, the younger Malfoy shouted back, "If you keep swearing Uncle Sev's gonna wash your mouth out with soap again! You know he'll do it too, like last time when you got pissed at that asshole at the apothecary a few months ago and started cussing him out!"

"The bloody prat deserved it!" The reply echoed down the stairs, and Draco could tell from the tone that his little brother was pouting, lower lip stuck out and arms crossed. "He was bad-mouthing werewolves, Slytherins and all things '_Dark' _just because they're Dark! What do you think he would have done if I told him that _I, _the damned 'chosen one' or whatever they're calling me these days,technically have a dark affinity?"

Eyeing the –once again –gaping Slytherins around him with the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, the blonde teasingly yelled back, "He would have had a heart-attack, just like you're giving everyone down here, and just like the ones you give me every other day you bloody menace!"

"Aww, but you love me anyway, right Drake?" Harry whined lightheartedly, still shouting down the stairs from his place in the seventh year boy's dorms.

"Yes, yes I do little brother." Draco replied tenderly, his mercury eyes softening as his face creased in a gentle smile. His house-members around him watched, astonished, as their 'Ice Prince' let down his mask completely, and they could see the absolute _love_ that the young Malfoy held for Pot- no, _Harry._ Draco sighed, shaking his head fondly at the thought of his surrogate brother's antics, before turning back to the now smiling serpent house ringed about him. "Yes?" The blonde asked.

"He's really nothing like what we thought, is he?" A fifth year commented, leaning her head on her hand.

Draco shook his head mutely in response, eyeing each of his house-mates warily, but finding only acceptance in their eyes. "My little brother has had one of the hardest lives of anyone, more so than any member of this house has experienced even with some of our excuses for parents. He's not Dumbledore's puppet, despite what anyone says; he's not even a true Gryffindor. He may be a lion, but he's really a snake at heart." And with that, he strode over to the staircase and quickly ascended, leaving the assembled purebloods to come to grips with the extreme paradigm shift they'd just experienced.

"I think we're going to get along well with this little snake in lion's skin." Blaise whispered, watching his friend go with a calculating light in his eyes.

* * *

"Harry?" Draco called softly, rapping his knuckles against the closed door to the dorms. He listened for a moment, but heard no reply. He knocked once more. And again, there was no reply. Growing worried, he grabbed the doorknob and attempted to swing the door inwards, but couldn't. Frowning, he twisted the knob from side to side, and it still turned; the door was not locked. But why couldn't he open it.

Leaning his hand on the door and spinning the silver knob, Draco pushed experimentally… something pushed back. It was as if there was a force on the other side, filling the room and pinning the door shut. Frantic, he called, "Harry? Harry are you in there?" But there was still no reply. Whipping his wand out of his robes, the young half-elf cast spell after spell at the wooden portal, but every one of them dissipated uselessly against the surface. Shaking his head and throwing his shoulder into the polished wood, the blonde braced his feet on the marble floor and heaved.

Agonizingly slowly, the door slid open, wood and hinges creaking and popping under the strain. As the crack between the edge and the frame grew wider and wider, swirling lights glittering with color filtered out, tossing bright sparkles and ghostly shadows in unearthly patterns throughout the landing. When the opening grew large enough, Draco slipped through, only to be slammed against the wall by the pressure flowing throughout the room. His head banged painfully against the wall, and the last thing Draco saw was a faltering image of his little brother writhing about on a bed with waves of power flowing from his struggling form, before he blacked out.

**A.N. Yeah, I know, that ending is **_**extremely **_**clichéd, but the chapter was getting too long and I wanted to get it out before you guys killed me =) Hope you liked! Now review; the little button doesn't bite.**


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Previously: _The last thing Draco saw was a faltering image of his little brother writhing about on a bed with waves of power flowing from his struggling form, before he blacked out._

Blaise Zabini sat in an ornately carved high-backed chair resting comfortably in front of the crackling fire in the Slytherin common room, slanting brown eyes closed as he mused inwardly. Smirking slightly, he listened to the both excited and anxious murmurings of the students ranged about the spacious dungeon room. All of them, with the exception of a few students who were snoring in a rather ungainly fashion, were discussing the bombshell that their unofficially recognized _'Prince' _had just dropped on them; Harry Potter, the world-renown 'golden-boy' of Gryffindor, the boy-who-lived-to-be-hyphenated, and the boy almost universally viewed as the puppet of the Master Manipulator, the so-called Light Lord Albus Dumbledore himself, was _Dark. _Not just dabbling in dark spells, the Gryffindor boy actually had a dark _affinity, _he was _naturally _a dark wizard, destined from _birth _to be planted firmly in the dark side of magic.

Not only that, but he wasn't loyal to Dumbledore _at all!_ In fact, according to him and Draco, Harry Potter despised the manipulative Headmaster more than even the _Slytherins _did. And Draco Malfoy, who had been the Gryffindor's most hated rival since their very first year in Hogwarts, saw the black-haired teen as his _little brother._

Of course, Draco had told Blaise in letters over the summer of the newly formed friendship, though the younger blonde didn't exactly go into detail. Still, actually _seeing _it was another Slytherin Prince-…

No, he was not Blaise's Prince. Not now….

"_The subjects of magic in realms unseen_

_From earthen rivers and stone_

_The Queen's only child, the Prince of the wild_

_To sit on Magic's throne._

_The native of wind, the Heir of fire_

_The Prince of water and earth_

_A wizard became, A royal by name,_

_The Childe of magic by birth.__**"**_

'_The Queen's child. __**Magic's **__childe.' _Blaise thought blissfully, a serene smile spreading across his face. '_Finally. We have waited so long, our people have waited _so long…' The young elf chuckled, slanted eyes glinting with devoted pride and the light of hope. '_But we wait no longer; our Prince has finally come, the Queen has finally found our people worthy of him. All we must do is find the Prince, and our Queen's Asar.' _Barely suppressing a grin, he stood smoothly from his chair, practically bouncing over to the stairs leading to the dorms. He would have to disturb Draco and Pot- no, _Harry, _for a moment; he needed to grab a sheet of parchment or two –as well as his clan's seal –from his trunk.

Almost vibrating with joy as he trotted up the stairs, the young Slytherin reached up with one slender hand to trace his ears, feeling the sharp point hidden beneath his people's most powerful glamour. Every seven years, the elves sent one of his clan to Hogwarts –in fact, to each magical school –incase the Prince they had been promised by their Queen would appear. Elves aged at a normal rate until they reached their prime, somewhere in the range of 20-25 years, at which their bodies were frozen for the rest of their lives. For generations, elves covered in glamours cast by the best of the elves that had chosen _Yathro_, the way of the sage, watched and waited. But every generation, the Prince was never found.

Eventually, it became Blaise's turn. So, just eleven years old, the young elf ventured into the human world to join his mother, the older woman having left earlier in order to form their cover story. The background they had devised was that Blaise's mother had moved from Italy, having been homeschooled there and having lost her husband some years before settling in England. As it was, his father had actually remained in the Elven world, his duties as one of the Generals that had chosen _Yabael_, the way of the guardian, preventing him from coming along. Still, the elf man visited regularly.

So, the young elf went to Hogwarts. But, like the elves before him, Blaise had been forced to keep the knowledge of their existence and his purpose from his friends and teachers, including Draco.

A frown creased the seventh-year's face at the thought of his best friend. Once Blaise had located the Prince, he would be returning to the Elven cities; until and if the High Elves revealed their continued existence to the world, Blaise would most likely never see his friend again… Unless…

Unless the blonde was chosen as a mate. While human mates were rare, they _were _possible; Baelyr Kennyrrae, the first of the Queen's _Asar, _had had a human as a mate. They were simply very unlikely. Most elves found their life-partners in others of their kind or in other magical creatures (such as Veela), though the process of _locating _said partners was often very long. Some of the elves waited _thousands _of years to find their perfect ones, relying on the draw that pulled them to their mate once the younger of the two was of age. During those years, under extremely strong glamours because of their being in hiding, the High Elves still made regular forays into the wizarding world in case of the unlikely event that their chosen was a human.

If they _were, _the mates were given a choice; come away from the human world to the elven, never to return, or stay and have the knowledge of the High Elves obliviated from their minds. If the second option was chosen, though it rarely ever was due to the fact that the Elf and their mate were literally soul mates, the Elf would –eventually –die, seeing no reason to continue living without their life-partners. Elves only had one chosen; without them the elf would waste away, refusing to eat or drink until, in the end, they died. In fact, unless slain in battle or –in the case of some of the older elves (either the ones without mates or together _with _their mates) –they _chose _to leave this world to the next, the loss of a mate was the only way an elf _could _die.

Now you may be wondering what the elves would do if their chosen was human; after all, even wizards only live up to a certain amount of time. So, what happened when the mortal mates died? Well, the answer was; they didn't.

You see, some time after the Queen first promised the coming Prince and the Kennyrrae, her _Asar_, left the Elven world, the Council acknowledged the fact that their Prince was going to be human. And as such, would eventually die when his life span ran out. But he was their Prince, their Queen's _only _child, and their people's promised one. They _could not _allow him to die. So, the best of the _Thro_ –or sages –worked tirelessly to find a way to preserve their Prince's life. And, after almost a century of searching, they found the solution.

Written on a scroll the _Bael _–guardians –had found in a crumbling tomb they came across during a standard patrol was a ritual created almost before the founding of their race. Surprisingly, it was rather easy to perform. With only a special potion brewed of a small number of simple ingredients, taken on the night of the full moon, a human could be given all the traits of a full elf, including their near immortality. They were still human, but with all the characteristics of a full-blooded elf.

As for mating, Blaise knew that he certainly felt drawn to the younger blonde. Draco had been his best friend since Blaise's first days at Hogwarts, and the two got along quite well, almost to an extreme degree. To be honest, the older teen _hoped _that the younger Malfoy was his chosen; the elf had fallen in love with him somewhere around their third or fourth year when Blaise realized that his friend did _not _in fact support the Dark Lord. If the blonde had, there would have been no chance, for while the elves had nothing against Dark wizards or dark magic in general, Voldemort had stood for everything the High Elves _did not_ believe in.

Still, he couldn't know for sure until December; Draco's birthday. '_I suppose I will just have to wait.' _Blaise thought, groaning despondently. Pulling himself from his thoughts, he realized that he had frozen halfway up the staircase, and he cleared his head with a weary shake. Trotting upwards once again, his dragon-hide boots making close to no sound on the hard marble, the young elf shoved his hands in his pockets and slumped his shoulders with a heaving sigh.

As he grew close to the landing outside the seventh year boy's dorms, Blaise began to see flashes of light flickering wildly on the slate-grey walls. Bright flashes of color flitted through swirling silver and black waves that were emanating through the open doorway. Something about the power struck a chord deep within him, but Blaise was unable to discern exactly _what _about it felt so, so, _familiar. _Shaking his head once more and tensing, the Elven teen clasped his slender fingers securely around the wand tucked into a pocket of his robes, grip white-knuckled. Closing his eyes for a moment to center himself, Blaise took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and darted into the room.

"Draco!" He gasped. The blonde, slumped halfway down the wall with his head lolled to the side and a slight bit of blood trickling out of his open mouth, was the first thing Blaise saw when he entered the room. Flitting over, Blaise frantically placed two fingers at his friend's throat, feeling desperately for a pulse. For one excruciating minute, he felt nothing. But then…

_Thump thump… thump thump…_

The Blonde's heart still beat strong. Almost crying with relief, Blaise bowed his head against Draco's chest for a moment, the young elf allowing himself to revel in the steady beats thudding against his ear as he thanked his Queen with all his heart that Draco was still alive. Then, a stronger wave of power from behind him caught him unawares, pulsing with ethereal colors and lights. Drawing his wand from his pocket with unearthly speed, Blaise spun to see…

Harry Potter. Writhing on the silk-sheets of one of the Slytherin beds, face contorted in pain as staggering surges of power, power like nothing Blaise had felt before, rolled off of his thin form. The young elf watched in shock as, with a bright flash, pointed black ears and a white-tipped tail appeared on the younger boy, and, impossibly, the pulsing magic grew even stronger. Then, as the green-eyed teen let out a strangled cry, Blaise could see deadly looking fangs flashing in the torch-light, colors glinting off the vicious points. Claws that had slid from Harry's fingertips sliced through the sheets and mattress as he clenched the fabric in his fists, grip white-knuckled as soundless howls tore their way from his parted lips.

'_What's happening to him?' _Blaise thought frantically, eyes wide and unblinking with shock. Clenching his teeth, he fought against the suffocating pressure, attempting –in vain –to force his way over to the younger boy that Draco had decided to protect and love. For if Draco thought the black-haired teen was worth it, then that was good enough for Blaise.

But it was to no avail; the crushing aura emanating from Harry's thrashing form was immense, pressing back against the young elf with a suffocating strength. Despite that, he fought on –for Draco. His arms and feet flailed, wand twisting and flicking haphazardly through the air as he cast spell after spell, leaving trails of sparks in its wake.

"_I'm afraid… that will not… work, young… elf." _A whispery voice came from behind Blaise, near the doorway. Hearing it, he froze in shock, thinking frantically, '_How do they know what I am?' _Suppressing a gulp of panic, the elf spun slowly on his heel, letting his eyes rove warily over the intruder.

It was a woman, cloaked in verdant green with dark green leaves and bronze runes patterned about the hem. The hood of her cloak was up, casting her face into shadows, but wisps of white-blonde hair –not unlike Draco's –peeked out, fluttering in the ebb and flow of Harry's power. Blaise reached out with his senses hesitantly, the feel of this woman's _own _power once again striking a chord within him, just as Harry's did. '_What was it?_' he wondered, the answer just barely out of his grasp. Slowly, Blaise mulled over her words, choosing to momentarily ignore her knowledge of his race, more concerned about the small teen writhing about the bed. "What, exactly, do you mean?" He asked.

The slight part of the woman's face that Blaise could see creased in a frown as she replied in her soft, broken voice, "_Harry is… breaking the bonds… placed… on his magic… At the moment… the young man… is experiencing his… full power…"_ Her cowled head turned and she looked at said young man solemnly, shaking her head slowly from side to side. The green-cloaked woman sighed slowly, before turning her head sharply back to the confused Blaise. "_I… need to help… him… If you will… step away from… young Draco… I will wake… the young dragon… He knows… what to do…"_

Blaise tensed, not wanting to leave Draco's care to this stranger. If the young blonde was hurt he'd- he'd never forgive himself. But, for some reason, the young elf trusted the unknown woman in green. So, reluctantly, he took a few slow, shaky steps, leaning against the wall with his wand gripped firmly within his tanned hand. Dark eyes fixed on the blonde woman, Blaise motioned with a hand towards the prone form of Draco, jaw set.

A soft smile crossed the un-shadowed part of the woman's face and, bowing her head regally, she glided over to Draco, her footfalls soundless on the silvery wooden floors. Sliding fluidly to her knees, she placed both of her small, slender hands on either side of the unconscious blonde's face, humming slightly under her breath. And, within moments, a sharp gasp was pulled from Draco's lips as he sat upright, mercury eyes flying wide. "Wh- Wha?" He faltered, staring up into the shadowed face of the stranger leaning over him. Hesitantly, he asked, "Who?"

"_Do you not… remember me… young Dragon?" _The woman queried, head cocked to the side. "_I spoke to you… your father… and Harry… when you visited…him." _She waved at the thrashing Harry. "_I did not think… you would forget… me so… soon."_

Mouth falling open, Draco stuttered out, "B- But you're a _spirit. _The essence of- of… everything! Harry- Harry never mentioned… How can you be here?"

Chuckling softly, Mother replied, "_Ah ah dragon… anything's possible… if you believe… But that is… enough talk… I need your… help young… Draco." _She held out a hand to pull the blonde to his feet where he wavered on shaky legs, not noticing the silent form of Blaise in the corner. The dark-skinned elf had been stunned into silence, contemplating the meaning of the words 'the essence of everything'. Surely he didn't… I mean she couldn't possibly be…

Walking towards the bed where Harry lay, the Mother parted the surges of power still emanating from his contorted form like Moses parted the waves of the red sea. Draco followed behind her faithfully, face creased in a worried frown as he saw the pained expression on his little-brother's face.

"What's wrong with him? What happened to his glamours? Why is he emitting this, this _energy? _And how do we stop it?_" _Draco rambled, hands fluttering over –but never touching, the green-eyed teen. Harry, being unusually powerful, did release magical pressure under extreme emotions, but never of this magnitude and _never _in such a broad range of colors; his aura was usually some combination of black, silver, green and gold. Mother just gazed down at said teen sadly, not responding, before placing two fingers at her mouth and letting loose a piercing whistle. Immediately, some of the points of light that had been dancing throughout the room clustered together, splitting into two masses before solidifying into a pair of sleek black jungle cats. Each of them called out a roar in stereo at the sight of their master's pain, slinking to the side of the bed and looking up at the Mother questioningly.

Nodding stoically at them, she greeted, "_Dahna… Dominick…"_

Bowing their heads in return, the pair leapt up on to the bed, curling sinuously up to either side of Harry and pinning his struggling limbs beneath their powerful bodies. Purrs rumbled through their chests as their rough tongues bathed across Harry's light golden skin, attempting to provide some semblance of comfort to their ailing master.

Shaking their heads in frustration when their efforts were met with no change, Dahna and Dominick spoke in soft tones underlain with growls, saying, "**There is no time… **We must help our Princeling…" In unison, they turned towards Draco and said demandingly, "**Your father is one of his protectors… **One of his guardians… **But he is not here now… **_You _are here_… _**You have the same blood in your veins… **The same legacy… **That heritage… **that birthright… **lies dormant within you… **It will know what to do… **HELP HIM, Draco of the Kennyrrae**."

"Kennyrrae…" The word fell silently from Blaise's mouth as, frozen in shock, he watched his best friend hesitantly close his eyes and breathe in deep, before letting it out in a slow, shaky breath. Draco's eyelids flickered, blonde lashes trembling against his pale cheek and brow furrowed as he reached within himself, searching for the feeling of recognition he felt whenever he looked into the verdant-green eyes of his little brother. Unknowingly, the blonde raised his arms straight out to the sides, palms up, and let his head fall back with a guttural moan. Taking in a shuddering breath once more, Draco finally grasped that oh so familiar feeling, pulling it to the surface as a white light shone from beneath his skin, causing the pale blonde to shine with an astral glow. The gleaming shimmer grew brighter and brighter, until the room was filled with its splendor and bright spots danced behind Blaise's eyes.

When the wisps of light cleared, in Draco's place stood… an elf. An elf with long white-blonde hair, tied away from his face into a low pony-tail with a leather thong. Sharply pointed ears peeked out from beneath the silvery locks, matching the rest of his delicately angular features. Draco's face had always been aristocratic, with a straight nose and high cheekbones; those qualities were now even more enhanced. Slowly, his closed eyes fluttered open, to reveal familiar grey orbs swirling with bright mercury light.

Blowing out a breath, Draco's outstretched arms fell limply to his sides and he shook his head to clear the cobwebs from his mind. Leaning over, he examined Harry with a quick glance, easily ignoring the still ebbing and flowing power that surged throughout the room. 'Hmm'ing noncommittally, he straightened and murmured, "The bonds placed on him by the Headmaster are finally breaking… the power must be too much for him to handle." He wasn't sure _how _he knew that, just that he did. Something deep with in him had awoken, and for some reason he knew exactly what steps he would have to follow in order to find a solution to Harry's problem. Unfortunately, some of those were rather complicated. Frustrated, he shot the Mother a sharp glance, ignoring the fact that –technically – she was his queen; Harry mattered more to him.

"I thought you were supposed to be all-powerful. Why can you not help him?" Draco demanded rhetorically; it was the duty of the _Asar_ to protect their Prince. He rested a slender hand on Harry's forehead, waited a moment, before jerking it away with a hiss. "He's burning up. He will not last long if this continues without a counter-balance." Shaking his head, brow furrowed, Draco muttered, "If only we knew who, and _where_, his mate is…"

Sighing, he glanced down at the still purring panthers beside his little brother. '_What did she call them?' _He mused, tapping his fingers on his chin. '_Oh yes…'_

"Dahna and Dominick was it?" Draco asked, humming in response to their affirming growls. "Well Dahna, Dominick, can you reach Kaen?"

Both jungle cats closed their eyes, waiting for a moment, before opening them and nodding. "**The connection is faint… **But it is there…. **He is attempting to contain the power… **from within our Princeling…"

But Draco shook his head, saying, "It isn't enough. Is there anyway he can take over Harry, or come out here?"

The panthers closed their eyes once more, growling out, "**There is no way for him to exist… **outside of our princeling's form… **but he can gain control… **He did not attempt it before… **incase the princeling's magic reacts negatively… **but he believes we have no choice now… **He will try."**

Seconds after, a snarling howl tore itself from Harry's mouth, startling the two beside the bed –and Blaise who remained unnoticed and frozen in shock, cloaked in the shadows in the corner of the room. After the initial shriek when his glamours had been stripped forcefully from his body, Harry's cries had been reduced mainly to small whimpers and moans of pain. His eyes had fallen shut, clenched tightly closed to prevent tears from falling from the emerald orbs.

But, as they watched, those eyes fluttered open, no longer emerald. Instead, they shone a bright gold, pupils slitted like a cat. Slowly, the swirling power still flowing about was called back in, and Kaen struggled to sit upright. When he finally succeeded, he leaned against the headboard with a satisfied smile.

"_Well, that was a bit more painful then I expected, but at least Harry –or rather, his magic –didn't fight me taking control." _He sighed, stretching their arms above their head then lowering them to knead their claws into the already shredded fabric of the sheets and the mattress below. "_Thank you little dragon, I was unsure as to whether or not that was a good idea."_ He swept their glowing golden eyes around the room speculatively, freezing on the shadowed figure of Blaise in the corner.

"_Well, well, well, who do we have here?"_

Hand flying to his wand, Draco spun and snarled, "Show yourself!"He summoned a gleaming silver dagger to his other hand, holding it with the blade pointed away from his face, crouching into the modified dueling stance he and Harry had adapted to suit their needs.

Gulping, Blaise stepped from the corner with a sigh, hands up by his shoulders and head down in a submissive posture. Recognizing him, Draco staggered back in shock, stuttering, "Blaise?"

"Hello Draco…" The dark-skinned teen murmured, gazing past him to the gently smiling Mother. Staring rapturously into her face, the young elf fell to one knee, bowing his head with one fist to the floor, the other arm resting on his thigh. "My Queen." He breathed, crystal tears welling up into the corners of his eyes. The opalescent drops fell through the air, splashing soundlessly against the silver wood of the floor. "I- I cannot express…I- is Harry…?" He trailed off, a pleading expression on his face, eyes locked on the floor.

"_Yes Blaise…" _Mother answered, sliding a finger under the young elf's chin and raising it so his eyes met hers (or rather, where he assumed they were underneath the shadows of her cowl). "_This is… my Childe… though his… protector… is currently… in control."_

"'_Ello pet."_ Kaen greeted, winking. He waved their hand lazily, the other tucked comfortably behind their head. "_I'm afraid _Cara _is resting right now, he couldn't take that much power surging all at one time." _ He shrugged, wincing at their sore muscles, retracting their claws and kneading the afflicted area gingerly. "_Tch, can't be helped I suppose. This __**is**__ rather interesting though… I didn't expect it to be quite so easy to find the elves…"_

**YOU CALL THIS **_**EASY? **_ Harry's indignant voice echoed in their mind, and, flinching, Kaen could just envision his _Cara _standing in their forest, hands on his hips and face set in a fierce scowl. **Oh, and by the way, **Harry commented, much milder this time. **I think you broke Draco.**

Indeed, the blonde elf was standing there with a shell-shocked look, mouth having fallen open in a rather ungainly expression, pureblood pride completely thrown to the winds. Prodding the blonde elf with a slender finger –having made sure their claws were sheathed –Kaen asked hesitantly, _"Erm, dragon? Uhm, I know this is a bit of a shock and all, but I'm sure ya wanna talk to elf-boy over there," _He jerked their thumb at Blaise, "_and I don't really think that standing there like a statue will help anything."_

"**Yes." **Dominick agreed, sliding off the bed before pressing his belly to the floor, hind end raised in a decidedly feline stretch. "And there is a chance… **that someone will walk in at any moment."**

"Damn…" Draco cursed, snapping out of his stupor. His mind was still running in starts and stops, attempting to come to grips with the fact that his best friend (and the boy he was secretly in love with) was, in actuality, a High Elf, and that they had actually managed to find one of the elves on the first bloody day of school. _'Not now Draco.' _He hissed inwardly, clearing his head with a sharp shake and letting himself run on instinct. Running a hand through his now shoulder-length hair he lamented, "I can't go around looking like this! If only father were here…"

"_That is… alright… young dragon…" _Mother soothed, laying a ghostly hand on his arm. "_The effects… will fade… soon; your inheritance… is not fully… awoken… as that was… only temporary... I gave you… the ears as… proof… to young… Blaise… Otherwise… the only… thing… that has come into… effect… were your… ingrained… instincts… from your… elven… blood… that tell you… to protect… my childe…" _

Raising an eyebrow, Blaise also pointed out, "And, Drake? There _are _such things as glamours you know."

Snorting, Kaen deadpanned, "_Like the ones you have on little elf? They're rather powerful, and extremely intricate… The elves I assume?"_

"Er, yes…" Blaise stuttered, looking into the unerringly golden eyes of Kaen. After all, this boy was his prince, or rather, was his prince's protector and was in his prince's body. And, despite having trained almost all of his childhood as to the proper protocols if/when he found their Queen's prophesied child, he really wasn't quite sure what to say. "Erm…" He fumbled, expression nonplussed. Beside him, Draco was fighting giggles; he had never seen the elder boy so flustered.

"_Oh quit it!" _Kaen reprimanded, throwing their hands into the air exasperatedly. "_My _Cara _could care less if we are the bloody Queen of England; ya don't have ta treat us any differently from blondie here." _He nodded at Draco who was attempting, and failing, to suppress laughter. If there was one thing Harry hated, it was being idolized and/or famous; it stands to reason that if Harry didn't like it, as his guardian, inner or not, neither would Kaen. Confirming that thought, Kaen continued, "_And if you start doin' it when my mage is in control – which would, ideally, be most of the time– I don't doubt that he'll give you a right lashing, though whether it's by words or wand is anyone's guess." _He shrugged then, as an afterthought, added, "_Or claw."_ He winked cheekily at Blaise, unsheathing and retracting the shining black nails teasingly.

Blaise rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, letting out a chagrined chuckle and letting his shoulders drop from their stiff position. "Right then. Er, well, I suppose I had best be sending a letter to the council-"

"_I will… take care of that… young one…" _Everyone jumped, even Kaen, having forgotten that Mother was still in the room. She was perched daintily on the bed, smiling rather genially. "_Originally I had… intended to not… get involved… as it was… the Asar's task… to find my childe… and I am normally… unable to interfere… in such… matters… But I did not… expect the Headmaster's… manipulations… My childe's… wellbeing is more… important… than any… rules… Young one," _She addressed Blaise, "_write your… letter… I will… mark… and deliver it… personally… The council… will know… what it means…"_

Blaise nodded, immediately going over to his trunk, rifling through it to find the specially enchanted parchment and ink he had been given for post back to the elven world. He set it out on the desk, beginning to sit down, when Kaen exclaimed, "_Aha!" _in a pleased voice. His golden eyes went cloudy, and then slowly began to fade back to green.

Eventually, Harry shook his head and moaned, falling back onto the pillows. "Ouch." He croaked, voice hoarse from screaming.

"My Prince?" Blaise and Draco asked in unison, while Mother said,

"_Childe?" _

"Blaise, what did Kaen tell you about the 'Prince thing'? And Draco, since when have you called me that?" Harry scolded, frowning weakly up at them. "And I'm alright Mother, just sore." Smiling gently, she brushed his long raven hair out of his face, causing Harry to jump when she accidentally brushed his sensitive black ears. Wait a minute, his ears? "Um, why, exactly, are my glamours off?" Harry mewled, sheathing his claws and attempting to cover the tell-tale triangular ears with his hands, tail wrapped around his stomach and twitching agitatedly. The already small teen curled himself into a ball, as if trying to make himself disappear behind Dahna, who had decided in favor of remaining on the bed and was now rubbing her cheek comfortingly into his arms which were patterned in large, light grey streaks.

"It's alright angel." Draco crooned, rubbing the embarrassed teen's back soothingly. "None of us here care, and Blaise wouldn't say anything." The blonde glared at the other boy pointedly, frowning. "Would you now?"

Suppressing the urge to gulp, Blaise stuttered, "N- No not at all. Got a pair of rather unusual ears myself actually." He unhooked a small ring from the cartilage of his ear, his appearance shimmering and rearranging as soon as the jewelry left his flesh. When the wavering faded, Blaise was slightly changed; he had a greater refinement and allure in his features, higher, arched brows and, most importantly, the tell-tale pointy ears of a High-Elf.

Grinning cheekily, he bowed and said, "Blaise Zulu Zabini, of the Raido clan, a high-elf and faithful servant to her Majesty, and now, to you." Holding up a hand to stop Harry's protests to the words 'faithful servant', Blaise calmly informed him, "I may not know you well my- er, Po- er… Oh hell, _Harry, _but I know now that you don't like being treated differently, or so your guardian –Kaen, was it? –told me. However, my people, _your _people, have been waiting centuries for your coming. You are our _Prince, _Her Majesty's only childe, and you _will _be treated as such. The elves are a proud people, and our Queen and our Prince are our greatest pride."

Harry froze, stunned at the emotion in the older boy's voice. Up until earlier that day, Harry had never even really _met _Blaise Zabini, and now the Slytherin was professing his fealty? '_Can't my life __**ever **__be normal?' _Harry groaned inwardly, shaking his head with a heaving sigh. "Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint." The young mutant said dryly, attempting to stand and giggling when Dominick's tail flicked him teasingly. Harry attempted to whack the panther back with his own tail, but ended up smacking himself in the face. "Haven't really gotten used to this yet…" He muttered, glaring when Blaise and Draco burst into laughter.

When he'd subsided, Blaise asked curiously, "If you don't mind me asking my, er, Harry, why exactly _do _you have these, ah, _feline _attributes?"

"**Not here." **Dominick reprimanded, amusing himself by twitching his tail in front of Harry's face and watching the young feral resist the urge to bat at it playfully. "**The Headmaster will have noticed… **that his bonds on the Princeling are gone… **He will be looking for him… **and someone might have seen him… **heading this way after dinner. **_**Or… **_one of his friends may have mentioned it… **where someone might have heard…"**

"True." Draco drawled, smirking. "They _are _Gryffindors after all."

Snickering, Blaise nodded, and then offered, "Later. Harry needs to get back, and I need to write that letter."

"Myself as well," the younger Malfoy added, flopping onto the bed Harry had vacated. "We need to be able to plan things, and Father will want to-"

"NO!" Mother cut him off, voice abandoning its wispy quality and causing the two elves (or rather, the elf and half-elf) to jump.

"My Queen?" Draco faltered hesitantly, addressing her by that title for the first time in his life and finding that –like calling Harry his Prince –it felt rather natural.

Voice softening slightly with an apologetic expression, Mother explained, "_The Headmaster… will be wary… when he… learns… of your… friendship… He will… most likely begin… to screen your… mail… Unless myself… or one of… Harry's falcons… delivers it… do __**not **__send… mail with any… important… information…"_

The three boys agreed, the elves with a reverent, "Yes your Majesty." And Harry with a quick, "Yes Mother." When Blaise eyed him questioningly for the words 'Harry's falcons' the young mutant just snapped his fingers twice, summoning and releasing his two spirit falcons who, like his other animals with the exception of Dahna and Dominick, were yet to be named.

"_Now…" _The Mother continued, dropping a kiss to Harry's forehead and stroking his cheek, "_I must… be leaving once… more… Young one…" _She said to Blaise, "_when you… have finished… your letter… leave it… closed and sealed… on your trunk… I will… retrieve it… before… the morning… And with… that… my childe… young elves… I bid you… goodbye…" _And, without a sound, she faded into bright sparks, flickered, and was gone.

"Why did you come to see Draco in the first place anyway Harry?" Blaise asked later as they were trotting down the staircase, Blaise and Harry's glamours firmly in place. The two Slytherins had insisted on showing Harry out, their protective instincts – as Mother had temporarily awoken Draco's elven heritage, though it eventually receded, the urges to protect Harry at all costs and to call him 'Prince' were still present –in full swing.

Harry giggled, smirking knowingly at Draco who was suppressing laughter. Despite having known Blaise for only about an hour, Harry felt he could trust the young elf and had dropped all of his masks. So, bouncing childishly, he responded, "Drake an' I are planning our coming out!" He winked, adding, almost as an afterthought, "As friends that is. Though I suppose the other way works too, us bein' gay and all." Harry resisted the urge to clap when he saw hope light Blaise's eyes as the older boy sent Draco a surreptitious glance which, unfortunately, the blonde was completely oblivious to.

"Ya know," Draco halted, leaning against the wall with a wry grin. "We never really did get around to that."

"So we didn't!" Harry realized, surprised. "Well, I guess we'll have to make this short then." He paused for a moment, deliberating, and then announced, "If there's no objections, we'll just and walk in together. Blaise, I think you should be already in the hall, so that if anyone asks where Drake is you can stave them off with some excuse or other. We'll meet in the passageway coming up from the dungeons to the front door at six so we can iron out any last minute details."

Both boys nodded, before the younger Malfoy stated, "Clothes! We need to coordinate!"

Harry giggled, prodding the other boy teasingly with a finger and jibing, "You sure you aren't a girl you ponce? Such a _dandy." _He dodged the blonde's retaliatory swipe, and relented, "Alright, wear a white shirt, that gold vest with silver embroidery, and your bronze over-robe with the black runes on the hem. A black belt, and your dagger in a holster, arm, waist or thigh." They had learned over the summer

Blaise hummed, and deciphered, "Wealth, but not over the top. Peace, new beginnings, but with a hint of danger as well." He grinned; ruffling Harry's already mussed black hair. "Well Harry, looks like you're one of us snakes after all!"

"And don't you forget it!" The green-eyed teen laughed, bouncing down the rest of the stairs.

"What'll _you_ wear then Angel?" Draco asked curiously, following the hyperactive teen at a more sedate pace.

Giggling, Harry grinned cheekily and said, "Ah, but that's a surprise!"

"C'mon, _pleaseeee!" _The blonde whined, jutting his lower lip out and clasping his hands together.  
"Just a little hint?"

"Ah but that's telling isn't it?" Harry giggled, tapping the side of his nose knowingly. "You'll just have to wait like everyone else! Later Drake, Bini!" He waved back over his shoulder, winked at the chuckling Slytherins around him, and faded into the shadows once more. There was the faint click of the portrait hole opening and closing, and then, he was gone.

Blaise stared after him, face a mask of shock. Eyes wide, he stuttered "Wha- Wha?"

"What's wrong Blaise?" Draco asked concernedly, laying a hand on the older boy's arm.

Shaking his head, the dark skinned teen just breathed incredulously, "_Bini?"

* * *

_

Several floors up, in the Headmaster's office, one of the formerly quiet whirring instruments that littered the shelves was steadily emitting a high-pitched buzzing noise, the contraption glowing an angry red. As time went on it began shaking and rattling in its mount, the noise getting louder and higher before, twenty minutes later when the time limit was reached, it fell silent once more.

The Headmaster to whom the office belonged never noticed, having been –at the time –lying awake in bed contemplating a _very_ serious matter… to him at least.

'_This is an __**extremely**__ important decision, the next __**month **__may very well depend on this decision… what should it be?... Hmmm… very well… It is decided…'_

'_this month's password will be Cockroach Clusters.'

* * *

_

Light filtered through the windows of Gryffindor tower, reflecting off the silvery fabric of Harry's invisibility cloak as he swung it over his head. The silvery material shimmered for a moment, flickered, and disappeared, taking the green-eyed mutant with it. Silently casting a muting charm on his footsteps, Harry swung the door open, closing it with a quiet click and darting silently down the stairs. As there were no classes that day, the tower was empty, no one unwilling to take the advantage of sleeping in with no consequences.

Weaving through the various chairs, tables, couches and bean-bags that littered the floor, the black-haired teen pushed open the portrait door, careful not to wake the Fat-Lady, and flitted off down the corridor.

Scarce minutes later, the swish of the ethereal cloak being removed sounded throughout the empty hallway leading up from the dungeons toward the great-hall. Brilliant green eyes could be seen glimmering from one of the shadowed alcoves as Harry settled back into it, waiting for Blaise and Draco to appear.

And, as planned, the two elves arrived promptly at six, slipping unobtrusively back to where Harry waited. With a flick of Blaise's wand, a silencing ward and a proximity ward (to warn them whenever someone was approaching) were cast. Reassured, the two Slytherins leaned against the wall, looking disappointedly down at their smaller friend.

"_Harrryyyyy…" _Draco whined, pouting childishly. "That's not fair!" For Harry was swathed in a thick black cloak, the clothes underneath completely obscured by its voluminous folds. The two elves had been looking forward to seeing what Harry came up with clothing wise, Blaise especially. Because, though Harry already treated him as a friend and ally, the elf was eager to discover more about his prince. And, though the _Thro _had taught that their Prince would naturally trust the elves as they were his Mother's people, Harry's easy acceptance of him was a constant source of amazement to him. Draco had given the older elf a more in-depth explanation of Harry's past –as well as the black-haired boy's mutant status, something which Blaise found intriguing –and Blaise was honestly astonished that the younger boy was able to trust at all.

But here he was, smiling and laughing as he prodded Draco in the shoulder, the brunette easily evading the half-elf's attempts to remove Harry's cloak. "No No, ya can't see yet!" Harry teased, dancing away from Draco's swipes to stand by Blaise. "Hey Bini!" The younger teen chirped, throwing his arms about Blaise for a quick hug.

Resisting the instinctual urge to bow, instead the elf ruffled Harry's hair and replied, "Mornin' Harry." Then, glaring down at him with a teasing scowl, he threatened, "And Harry, if you _ever _call me '_Bini'" _He spat the name like a curse, "again, Prince or not, you may find yourself met with an unfortunate accident."

Harry just giggled blithely, responding with an oblivious, "Sure Bini!" He grinned at the elf's mutinous mutterings, glancing down at his watch and announcing, "We've got about an hour until the hall fills up, and honestly, I don't feel like waiting here." The mutant looked over at Draco for suggestions, ignoring Blaise who was giving the green-eyed teen his best death-glare.

The blonde just shrugged, offering, "Well, I suppose we could go see Sev…"

"Ooooh, Sevvie!" Harry sang, bouncing up and down and giggling, laughing harder when Blaise choked at Harry's name for the dreaded potions professor. "I was thinking of going to see Siri and Remy, but this is much better! I haven't seen Uncle Sev in _forever!"_

"You saw him a few weeks ago, before your inheritance." Draco reminded fondly, dispelling the wards and starting down the stairs towards the lower dungeons where Severus was quartered.

Thumbing his nose, Harry replied, "exactly! That's _forever!" _ He followed after Draco, skipping and dragging the un-protesting Blaise behind him by the arm. "Besides, Sev is always alone in the mornings. You know, we need to find someone for him too, he deserves that." Harry declared matter-of-factly, as if it was an every day occurrence for him to be plotting about his professor's love-life.

"_And _his fire-place is connected to the floo-system," Draco pointed out, "perhaps I can get in touch with father while we're there." Mother had told them to be careful with letters, but it was impossible to overhear a floo-conversation unless you were on the receiving end, and Malfoy Manor was as heavily warded as a building could be.

Blaise laughed, drawling, "Yes, and I for one would like to see your dad's expression when you tell him our, ahem, _news._ After all, _no _one expected it to be this easy, just running into each other on the first bleedin' day of school._"_ They had agreed not to discuss any of the details or specifics of their situation in public if at all possible, using code or vague statements when privacy wasn't an option.

Harry hummed, thinking, and asked, "Are we going to tell Severus? You know Uncle Luc doesn't like keeping secrets from him, after everything that's happened."

"We'll have to at some point I suppose." Draco decided seriously. "And this way we can talk to father about it before we decide anything."

"True that." The other two boys agreed, clattering down the last set of stairs and walking the short distance to the portrait door guarding Severus' quarters, and freezing at the sight of the man reclining within the frame.

Normally, the painting was of a slumbering wizard with a raven perched upon his shoulder. The man almost never woke, so the raven was enchanted to ask and receive passwords, the canvas holding just enough ambient magic to accomplish the task.

But this time, it was different. Seated in an ornately crafted wooden chair was…

**A.N. Don't kill me! I'm sorry, I'm leaving town for the next five days or so and I didn't want you guys to wait any longer for another chapter, so I ended it early. Yes, I know, it's shorter than normal, but I've been really busy for the past month or so and couldn't write as much. I promise, cross my heart, that I'll make it up to you guys, k? Bear with me, and I hope you enjoyed it!**


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